iftSM:; 


W^mm 


11111111111 


UNKNOWN' 
TU  S  CANY 


iW^-^ 


EDWARD    HUTTON 


^^^ 


^1^ 


IN    UNKNOWN    TUSCANY 


MONT'  AM  I  ATA 


IN    UNKNOWN 
TUSCANY 


BY 

EDWARD    HUTTON 

AUTHOR   OF    "THE   CITIES  OF   UMBRIA " 


WITH    NOTES    BY 
WILLIAM    HEYWOOD 


with  eight  illustrations  in  colour 

By  O.  F.  M.  ward 

and  twenty  other  illustrations 


NEW   YORK 
E.    P.    DUTTON    AND    COMPANY 

31    WEST   TWENTY-THIRD   STREET 
1909 


■.J 


PREFACE 

/I  FE  W  words  on  the  genesis  of  this  book 
might  seem  to  be  called  for.  hi  the 
summer  of  1907  /  ivent  up  into  Mont'  Amiata, 
and  moved  by  the  extraordinary  beauty  and 
virility  of  that  part  of  Central  Italy  as  seen 
from  the  Mountain,  I  began  to  write  down  7ny 
impi'essions  of  it.  Repettis  ''  Dizionario,''  that 
best  of  all  books  on  Ttiscany,  written  some 
eighty  years  ago,  the  "  Commentaries''  of  Pio  11. 
helped  7jze  with  such  historical  facts  as  I 
needed,  and  in  Barzellotti's  ''David  Laz- 
zaretti "  I  foimd  the  thoughts  of  a  native  of 
Mont'  Amiata  on  all  that  had  happened  in  the 
Mountain  that  was  his  home. 

Just  then — it  was  in  August — 7ny  friend  Mr. 

William  Heywood  came  up  into  the  Mountain 

from  Perugia,  and  to  my  great  advantage,  as  it 


vi  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

proved,  decided  to  stay  in  A  bbadia  San  Salvatore, 
•where  I  was  then  living.  Together  we  explored 
the  Mountain  and  talked  of  its  history.  Know- 
ing far  more  than  I  could  hope  to  do  of  the 
sources  of  its  histojy,  he  made  me,  so  far  as 
he  was  able  in  our  walks  and  rides,  a  partaker 
of  his  knowledge,  and  at  last,  hearing  what  I 
was  at,  he  placed  at  my  disposal  all  his  notes  on 
the  Mountain,  and  agreed  to  write  for  me 
an  Appendix  to  the  book. 

So  under  his  influence  the  book  beca^iie  a 
very  different  thing  from  what  I  had  planned. 
It  gained  incalculably.  A  certain  difference 
between  us  both  in  tempe^^ament  and  in  intention 
— for  while  for  him  the  fact  was  everything^ 
for  me  it  was  little  compared  with  the  right 
expression  of  what  I  7ny self  felt  and  saw — has 
helped,  as  I  thijtk,  to  give  the  book  a  strength  it 
might  otherwise  have  lacked,  to  set  it  square  on 
the  earth,  so  that  the  reader  who  co77tes  to  it  first 
for  historical  facts  will  not  be  disappointed,  for 
he  cannot,  indeed,  find  this  information  in  any 


PREFACE  vii 

other  book  in  any  language.     This  side  of  the 

booky  then,  its  appeal  to  the  student  of  Italian 

History,  would  have  been  infinitely  less  valuable 

— or    even     non-existent  —  if    Mr.    Hey  wood 

had  not  appeared  at  the  opportune  moment  he 

did,   or  if  appearing,   he  had  not  given  up  a 

great  part  of  his  life  to  the  study  of  Sienese 

History.     And  so  while  I  am   responsible  for 

the   text   of  the   book,    and  he  for  the   notes, 

without  the  assistance  of  which  I  have  spoken 

the  text  would  have  been  much  less  precise  and 

much  less  valuable  than  I  hope  it  is. 

E.  H. 

Casa  di  Boccaccio 
corbignano 


CONTENTS 


CHAP.  rAGE 

Prefack  ......        V 

I.  The  Vision   ..... 

II.  Of  the  Way  and  of  the  Mountain    . 

III.  The  History  of  Abbadia  San  Salvatore 

IV.  The  Badia    ..... 
V.  The  Castello         .... 

VI.  In  the  Forest  and  on  the  Mountain 
VII.  To  Radicofani        .... 


VIII.  Bagni  di  S.  Filippo,  Campiglia  d'Orcia,  and 
Vivo         ..... 

IX.  Pian  Castagnajo    .... 

X.  The  Aldobrandeschi 

XI.  Santa  Fiora  .... 

XII.  Arcidosso     ..... 

XIII.  The  New  Messiah 

Conclusion  ..... 

Notes  ..... 

Useful  Information 

Index  ..... 


21 

41 

51 
61 
92 

113 
127 

139 
165 
178 
182 
215 
219 
239 
241 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


IN   COLOUR 


Mont'  Amiata 


On  the  Way  to  the  Mountain 

Mont'  Oliveto 

Homewards,  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore 

In  S.  Fiora  of  the  Aldobrandeschi 

David  Lazzaretti,  the  Messiah  of  Mont'  Amiata 

On  Montelabbro     ..... 


Frontispiece 


G   PAGE 

4 

14 
60 

156 

182 

192 


On  the  Way  to  the  Valleys  :  Noon  on  the  Road    216 


IN    MONOTONE 

St.   Francis's    Vision  near    Rocca   di    Campiglia 
d'Orcia.    Mont'  Amiata  in  background  . 

From  the  picture  by  Sassetta  at  Chantilly 

Plan  of  the  present  and  subterranean  Churches 
of  the  Abbey  of  S.  Salvatore     . 

The  Castello,  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore 

Castellazzara       .... 

Altar  Piece,  Pieve,  S.  Fiora    . 
By  the  Della  Robbia  School 

Radicofani  ..... 

PlAN   CASTAGNAJO    .... 


40 
50 

68 


92 
128 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  xi 

FACING    PAGE 

PlAN   CASTAGNAJO    .  .  .  .  .  .136 

COMUNICATORIO,   PlEVE,   S.   FlORA  .  .  .      140 

By  Giovanni  della  Robbia 

La  Madonna  della  Cintola,  Pieve,  S.  Fiora         .    146 
By  the  Della  Robbia  School 

Santa  Fiora  .  .  .  .  .  .152 

The  Peschiera,  S.  Fiora  ....    160 

RoccA  Di  S.  Fiora,  from  within         .  .  .    166 

Font,  Pieve,  S.  Fiora     .  .  .  .  .168 

By  Giovanni  della  Robbia 

The    Last    Supper,    Detail    of    Pulpit,    Pieve, 

S.  Fiora  ......    170 

By  the  Della  Robbia  School 
The  Resurrection,  Detail  of    Pulpit,    Pieve,  S. 

Fiora     .  .  .  .  .  .  .172 

By  the  Della  Robbia  School 

The  Ascension,  Detail  of  Pulpit,  Pieve,  S.  Fiora    174 
By  the  Della  Robbia  School 

The  Holy  Trinity,  in  the  Convent  in  the  Wood, 

S.  TrinitA.  near  S.  Fiora  .  .  .  .176 

By  the  Della  Robbia  School 

La  Madonna,  Arcidosso  .  .  .  .178 

The  Falls  of  Arcidosso  ....    180 


IN    UNKNOWN   TUSCANY 


THE  VISION 

/^NE  evening  in  Siena,  because  of  the  noise 
^-^  and  heat  of  the  city,  I  had  wandered  up 
to  the  great  half-forsaken  church  of  the  Servi 
di  Maria  for  the  sake  of  the  silence  and  the 
wind.  It  was  the  hour  before  sunset.  Behind 
me,  on  her  hills,  the  beautiful  pale  city  of  the 
Virgin  rose,  as  ever,  with  a  certain  strangeness 
in  her  beauty,  a  little  hysterical  maybe,  as  in 
that  vast  swooning  Tower,  that  curiously  over- 
expressive  Palazzo  Pubblico,  that  visionary 
Cathedral — a  cathedral  that  had  Jacopone  da 
Todi  been  an  architect  instead  of  a  poet  he 
would  perhaps  have  built.  Here  and  there 
about  the  city  among  the  olives,  still  full  of  the 
song  of  the  cicale,  the  valleys  broke  in  sudden 
bursts  of  green,  where  the  gardens  were  lost  in 


2  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

the  vineyards,  the  vineyards  in  the  corn. 
Before  me  stretched  the  contado,  a  restless 
country  of  up-tossed,  tawny  hills,  as  in  a  picture 
by  Piero  della  Francesca.  And  over  that 
strange,  arid  world,  where  the  little  cities 
burned  like  precious  stones,  hovered  Mont' 
Amiata,  that  beautiful,  mysterious  mountain, 
not  too  near,  not  too  far  away,  very  faint  in 
the  heat,  the  last  outpost  of  Siena,  looking 
towards  Rome  and  the  sea. 

All  day  long  that  world  of  barren   hills  so 
strange,  so  fantastic,  and  so  beautiful,  had  been 
like  a  hard,  glowing  jewel,  in  which  everything 
less  pure  or  less  mysterious  than  the  sun  had 
been    consumed    in  an   astonishment  of  light. 
But  presently,  as   I   knew,  the  earth  would  be 
filled  with  a  marvellous  shadow ;  a  mysterious 
and  solemn  loveliness,  almost  poignant  in  the 
strange  brevity  of  its  passing,  would  fall  upon 
the  hills ;  like  some  known  and  ancient  sweet- 
ness the  wind  would  come  from  the  mountains, 
the  wind  that  had  passed  over  the  sea.     It  was 
for  that  I  was  waiting  after  the  heat  of  the  day. 
The    whole    world    was    longing   for    rain. 
Sometimes  out  of  the  silence  a  boy's  voice  rose 
shrilly  below  me  among   the  drooping  vines, 
singing  stornelli ;  from  the  little  courtyard  of  a 


THE  VISION  3 

podere,  where  the  corn  was  strewn  Hke  a  yellow 
carpet,  came  the  rhythmic  throb  of  the  flails, 
like  the  murmur  of  summer  itself,  faint  and  far- 
off,  as  they  beat  out  the  grain  ;  now  and  then, 
from  the  shadow  hard  by,  came  the  subtle,  deli- 
cious laughter  of  a  little  child  playing  alone  : 
there  was  no  other  sound.  Thus  I  waited  in 
the  shadow  of  the  church  for  the  wind  from  the 
sea.  Suddenly,  just  within  the  city  gate,  I  heard 
the  roup^h  voice  of  a  barrocciaio  cheering  his 
asses  on  the  way  to  the  mountains.  Was  it  in 
that  moment  I  knew  for  the  first  time  how 
weary  I  was  of  the  ways  of  a  city  ?  I  leaned 
eagerly  over  the  wall  to  watch  him  who,  sing- 
ing now,  was,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  making  his 
escape.  Yes,  he  would  go  by  the  long  roads, 
through  the  cool  night,  perhaps  by  Arbia,  whose 
waters  still  at  dawn  maybe  ran  red  with  blood. 
In  those  secret  .hours,  unconscious  of  the 
splendour  of  the  way,  he  would  follow  Via 
Francigena  in  the  wake  of  many  armies,  till,  in 
the  nativity  of  the  sun,  Buonconvento  would 
rise  before  him,  within  whose  marvellous  walls 
Dante's  emperor,  on  his  way  southward  to  meet 
King  Robert  of  Naples  and  Pope  Clement  v., 
his  enemies,  lingered  and  found  his  death  in 
1 31 3,  as  it  is  said  in  the  morning  Mass  of  S. 


4  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Bartholomew.  So  he  would  go  in  the  dawn, 
halting,  perhaps,  at  the  inn  of  the  Cavallo 
Inglese  for  a  cup  of  the  wine  they  grow  there, 
golden  and  cold,  and  a  mouthful  of  bread  ;  but 
the  heat  would  find  him,  at  last,  maybe  under 
Radicofani,  maybe  on  the  barren  flank  of 
Montalcino,  so  that  he  would  sleep  through  the 
terrible  hours  of  midday,  when  with  Sol'  in 
Leone  none  may  walk  or  work,  perhaps  in  the 
shadow  of  the  Osservanza,  where  you  turn  to 
the  left  on  the  steep  way  under  the  city  of 
Montalcino.  Then  in  the  afternoon,  not  with- 
out a  momentary  prayer  to  Madonna  Assunta 
of  that  place,  whom  Benedetto  Bonfigli  of 
Perugia  has  painted  there  very  sweetly,  he 
would  follow  the  road  into  Val  d'Orcia,  past  S. 
Antimo  and  its  forgotten  Abbey,  and,  crossing 
the  river  and  the  railway,  by  evening  win  to  the 
lower  slopes  of  that  far-away  fair  mountain 
Mont'  Amiata,  where,  as  I  seemed  to  remember, 
long  and  long  ago  a  king  saw  Christ  in  the 
forest  and  was  glad  therefore,  and  for  that  cause 
built  the  first  great  Abbey  of  Tuscany, — ah ! 
long  and  long  ago ;  where,  not  far  away  even 
while  I  was  a  child  in  England,  David 
Lazzaretti  heard  a  voice  or  saw  a  vision,  and 
went  no  more  with  his  baroccio  from  village  to 


THE  VISION  5 

village,  but  wandered  alone  on  Mont'  Labbro 
till,  pursued  by  dreams  that  he  sought  in  vain 
to  prove  realities,  the  carabinieri  shot  him  one 
day  of  August — it  was  just  after  the  Festa  of 
S.  Maria  Assunta,  1878.  And  to-day,  too,  in 
those  immense  forests  what  might  not  await 
one  at  evening,  even  now  in  the  silence  and  the 
wind  ? 

The  sun  had  set,  all  that  tawny  barren  world 
seemed  burnino:  in  the  conflaorration  of  the 
ruined  sun.  The  city  flamed  like  some  beauti- 
ful beacon.  Then  suddenly,  out  of  the  fire,  the 
bells  of  the  Duomo  rang  the  message  of  the 
Angel.  Swiftly,  hysterically  almost,  with  the 
eagerness  of  a  woman,  the  convent  of  S. 
Girolamo  answered.  From  Santo  Spirito,  from 
San  Domenico,  from  San  Martino,  from  Sant' 
Agostino,  Santa  Mustiola,  from  San  Francesco, 
over  the  city  of  the  Virgin  the  bronze  voices 
mixed  in  a  marvellous  chorus  singing  Magnificat. 
The  canticle  seemed  to  rise  towering  into  the 
sky,  like  the  bell-shaped,  pure  Lily  of  Annuncia- 
tion. From  the  vineyards,  from  the  gardens, 
from  the  cornfields,  from  the  valleys  and  the 
hills  came  the  soft  country  voices,  bell  answer- 
ing  bell,    throbbing   and    beating,   wave   after 


6  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

wave,  in  an  ever-widening  circle  of  sound  that 
broke  at  the  feet  of  Siena,  till  at  last  their 
voices  were  lost  in  the  silence  that  brooded 
over  the  valleys  and  the  hills. 

Again  I  looked  out  across  that  world,  silent 
so  suddenly,  to  Mont'  Amiata,  that  in  the  failing 
light  seemed  infinitely  far  away,  like  a  moun- 
tain in  a  dream.  Ah,  if  I  could  reach  her ! 
There,  why,  there,  if  anywhere  in  the  world, 
was  all  that  I  could  desire,  coolness  and  silence, 
the  wind  among  the  trees,  and  laughing  streams 
bordered  with  forget-me-nots,  and  the  little 
songs  of  the  country,  if  I  might  trust  Pio  ii. 
Why  should  I  not  set  out  ? 

One  by  one  the  cities  faded  in  the  twilight, 
little  by  little  that  barren  world  of  hills  was 
lost  in  an  immense  and  beautiful  shadow ;  out 
of  Maremma  night  was  coming,  only  Mont' 
Amiata,  like  a  dim,  vast  precious  stone,  shone 
far  away  between  earth  and  sky. 

Why  should  I  not  set  out  ? 

Suddenly  beneath  me  the  olives  stirred  in 
the  twilight,  the  corn  whispered  together  and 
was  silent,  the  dead  grass  on  the  wall,  between 
the  bricks,  shivered  and  was  still.  There  was 
a  moment  of  profound  stillness.  Again  the 
olives  trembled,  a  swallow  dipped  past  me  cry- 


THE  VISION  7 

ing  plaintively ;  beside  the  church  the  dust 
curled  up  in  little  tongues  like  flames.  It  was 
the  wind  at  last.  At  first  it  came  in  little  gasps, 
like  the  cries  of  children  ;  then  with  a  flutter  as 
of  wings,  like  the  flight  of  doves  or  the  hurry 
of  a  girl's  bare  feet  in  the  vineyard.  Over  the 
eastern  hills  the  moon  hung  like  the  Host  in  a 
monstrance  of  jasper,  the  olives  tossed  their 
silver  leaves  as  though  in  adoration,  the  corn 
was  a  sea  of  purple  and  gold, — it  was  the  wind 
at  last.  And  I  heard  a  voice  walking  in  the 
garden  of  the  world  like  the  voice  of  God. 

When  I  looked  again  Mont'  Amiata  was  lost 
in  the  night. 


II 


OF  THE  WAY  AND  OF  THE 
MOUNTAIN 

A  S  you  come  to  Mont'  Amiata  from  Siena, 
-^^-  perhaps  by  railway  through  Asciano 
and  Torrenieri  to  Mont'  Amiata  station  in 
Val  d'Orcia,  perhaps  by  road  through  Buon- 
convento  and  S.  Quirico,  turning  at  last  almost 
under  the  famous  eyrie  of  Radicofani,  past 
Bagni  di  S.  Filippo,  where  Grand  Duke 
Ferdinando  ii.  cured  his  headache,  up  to 
Abbadia  di  San  Salvatore  on  the  verge  of  the 
woods,  you  will  find  yourself  crossing  the 
desolate  and  barren  country  of  the  Sienese 
contado,  a  tawny  land  of  volcanic  hills  lined 
and  scored  by  the  heat  of  the  sun,  without 
trees  or  vineyards  or  olives,  ascetic  and  almost 
naked,  but  that  a  yellow  hillside  here  and  there 
is  sparely  covered  with  broom,  or  topped  by  a 
few  stone  pines,  hovering  there  like  the  dread- 
ful spirits  of  this  country,  that  must  always  have 


Sassf/i,i  <  ...intilly 

S.    FRANCIS  S   VISION    NEAR    ROCCA    DI    CAMPIGLIA    DORKIA   (Celano  ii,  gj), 

MONT    AMIALA    IN    THE   BACKGROUND 

( Bran  11.  CUhnenI  i"  Cie.) 


OF  THE  WAY  AND  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN     9 

been  lonely  and  silent,  where  in  some  sort 
feudalism  has  lingered  almost  till  our  own 
time. 

Very  silent  and  strange  it  seems  on  a 
summer  day  when  the  impartial  sun  pitilessly 
involves  this  naked  land  in  its  own  ecstasy  of 
fire,  and  as  you  wind  among  those  tortured 
hills  you  might  think,  indeed,  that  no  sound 
could  ever  penetrate  so  great  a  silence,  till  at 
a  turning  of  the  way  suddenly  a  breath  of  air 
stirs  on  the  hillside,  and  you  catch  a  sibilant 
murmur  as  of  still  restless  but  forgotten  ashes, 
the  whisper  of  the  wind  among  the  dry,  rustling 
pods  of  the  broom.  It  is,  as  it  were,  the  voice 
of  this  desert,  where  at  dawn,  at  midday,  at 
sunset  man  is  dwarfed  by  the  largeness,  the 
immensity  of  elemental  things. 

But  this  desolate  land  possesses,  too,  a 
marvellous  and  virile  beauty  beyond  almost 
any  other  part  of  Italy.  How  well  we  have 
loved  and  understood  the  almost  feminine 
loveliness  of  Umbria,  for  instance,  or  the 
laughing  country  about  Florence,  the  lines  of 
the  hills  there  as  expressive  as  in  a  picture 
by  Sandro  Botticelli.  Only  this  we  have  not 
understood.  Yet  here  alone  we  may  find, 
if  we   will,    something   of    the    profound    and 


lO  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

passionate  beauty  of  Castile,  the  virility  of 
the  desert,  the  mystery  and  tyranny  of  the  sun. 

Well,  it  is  across  this  country,  so  little 
appreciated  or  understood,  so  sensitive  to 
every  aspect  of  the  sky,  that  every  one  must 
pass  on  the  way  from  Siena  to  the  Mountain. 

If  you  come  by  railway,  starting  early  and 
without  lingering  at  Asciano,  where  indeed 
there  is  but  little  to  see, — an  altar  piece  by 
one  of  the  Robbia,  blue  and  white  like  a 
spring  sky,  a  few  second-rate  Sienese  pictures, — 
midday  will  find  you  free  of  the  train  at  last, 
at  the  station  of  Mont'  Amiata,  and  all  the 
afternoon  in  the  murmuring  heat  you  will 
climb  the  slopes  of  the  Mountain,  winning  to 
the  woods  at  evening,  those  vast  delicious 
forests  where  above  you  all  day  long  the 
leaves  are  spread  like  a  veil  of  green  spangled 
with  gold ;  and  there  spring  might  seem  to  be 
eternal.  But  to  travel  anywhere  in  Italy  by 
railway  is,  as  it  were,  to  make  compromise 
with  beauty  and  with  wisdom.  The  wise 
traveller  will,  as  of  old,  follow  the  road,  and 
since  the  road  is  Via  Francigena,  who  would 
not  be  willing  to  linger  by  the  way  ? 

The  Via  Francigena,  or  Francesca,  for  it 
was   called    by   either   name,    is,  as    its    name 


OF  THE  WAY  AND  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN    1 1 

implies,  the  way  of  the  Franks  into  Italy. 
Leaving  Via  Emilia,  the  ancient  yEmilian 
Way,  straight  almost  as  a  ruled  line  from 
Milan  to  Rimini,  at  Parma  it  crossed  the 
Appenines  by  the  Cisa  Pass,  as  indeed  it  does 
to-day,  descending  into  the  western  valleys 
at  Pontremoli  in  Lunigiana,  and  entering 
Tuscany  at  Sarzana  and  forgotten  Luni. 
Then  by  the  Salto  della  Cervia  it  entered  the 
Lucchese,  passed  through  Lucca,  and,  by 
Altopascio  and  Galleno,  found  Val  d'Arno 
at  Fucecchio.  Crossing  the  Arno  there 
under  S.  Miniato  al  Tedesco,  it  entered  the 
Val  d'Elsa,  passing  Castel  Fiorentino,  Certaldo, 
and  Poo"o:"ibonsi.  Climbino-  thence  into  the 
Sanese,  it  passed  Staggia  and  Siena,  Buon- 
convento,  S.  Ouirico,  Callimala,  Acqua- 
pendente,  Bolsena,  Montefiascone,  Viterbo  and 
Sutri,  entering  Rome  at  last  by  Porta  di 
Castello.  By  that  road  in  1191  came  Philip 
Augustus ;  and  indeed  it  was  the  shortest 
road  from  Lombardy  to  Rome.  It  was  not 
till,  in  1352,  the  Sienese  held  Radicofani 
that  that  ancient  mediaeval  way  was  changed. 
Then  the  Borgo  of  Callimala  was  destroyed, 
and  the  Via  Francigena,  instead  of  holding  to 
the  valley  of  Paglia,  was  led  over  the  height 


12  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

of   Radicofani,  to  take  again  the  ancient  way 
it  had  left  for  Viterbo  and  Rome. 

It  is  this  road  you  follow,  starting  at  dawn 
out  of  Porta  Romana  of  Siena,  passing  Mala- 
merenda,  where  the  Salimbeni  slew  the  Tolomei 
in  133 1,  and  reaching  by  nine  in  the  morning 
Buonconvento,  still  with  its  old  walls  unspoiled, 
where — is  it  not  so  ? — it  is  convenient  to 
hear  Mass.  You  may  think  there  is  but 
little  to  see  in  Buonconvento  ;  a  church  here 
and  there  perhaps,  but  only  one  of  them  seems 
to  hold  any  precious  thing,  SS.  Pietro  e 
Paolo,  where,  over  the  high  altar,  Matteo  di 
Giovanni  has  painted  Madonna,  not  without  a 
certain  sweetness  and  grace  ;  where  in  the 
sacristy  hangs  a  triptych  by  Sano  di  Pietro, 
in  which  he  has  painted  Madonna  in  the  midst 
with  S.  Catherine  and  S.  Bernardino  beside 
her,  while  not  far  away  is  a  picture  by  Pac- 
chiarotto  :  unimportant  things  maybe,  not  too 
worthy  of  remembrance,  but  these  are  the 
flowers  of  country  places  that  you  miss  if  you 
come  by  the  iron  road.  And  then  very  easily 
from  Buonconvento  you  may  see  the  convent  of 
Monte  Oliveto  Maggiore,  that  surprising  place 
where  blind  Bernardo  Tolomei  of  Siena,  re- 
covering   his   sight   by   a    miracle,    in    thank- 


OF  THE  WAY  AND  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN    13 

fulness  forsook  the  world  and  retired  to  that 
barren  hill  called  Accona,  now  so  green  with 
trees,  founding  there  the  Olivetan  Congrega- 
tion under  the  Rule  of  S.  Benedict ;  and 
Madonna  dressed  his  monks  in  white.  There, 
where  now  no  more  you  may  hear  the  cheerful 
voices  of  those  who  count  the  world  well  lost, 
you  come,  not  without  surprise,  upon  the 
virile  work  of  Luca  Signorelli,  and,  beside  it, 
really  the  best  work  of  that  trifler  Sodoma, 
the  integrity  and  energy  of  the  dead  Umbrian 
seeming,  as  by  a  miracle,  to  have  saved  the 
Sienese  for  once,  really  from  himself,  his  self- 
indulgence,  his  facile,  vulgar  gorgeousness. 

Or  maybe  the  summer  day  will  seem  too 
fierce  for  you  to  trifle  with  the  valleys,  so  that 
at  evening,  leaving  Monte  Oliveto  unseen,  and 
following  still  Via  Francigena,  you  will  leave 
Buonconvento  for  S.  Ouirico  d'Orcia,  where 
in  the  Piazza  is  the  good  Inn  of  Costantini 
Casini,  where  one  may  sleep. 

As  you  climb  into  that  little  hill  city  at 
sunset,  maybe  the  priests  are  blessing  the  way 
against  to-morrow's  Festa,  and  you  are  in- 
volved in  the  mystery  in  which  the  whole 
city  takes  part ;  the  people,  some  in  procession, 
with  candles  shining  in  the  glow  of  earth  and 


14  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

sky,  some  with  banners  fantastically  sewn 
with  the  initials  of  their  Companies,  the  girls 
in  white,  the  women  and  men  in  black,  kneeling 
in  the  dust  of  the  way,  awaiting  in  the  stillness 
the  benediction  of  the  evening.  In  that  moment 
a  certain  weariness,  born  of  the  long  way  and  the 
dust,  seems  to  pass  from  you  suddenly,  so  that 
you  fall,  on  that  night  at  least,  into  one  of  those 
dreamless  sleeps  that  are  so  rare  as  we  grow 
older,  but  that  in  childhood  seemed  to  fold  one 
every  night  swiftly,  lovingly,  into  the  invisible. 
And  then  the  morrow !  S.  Quirico  d'Orcia 
will  not  hold  you  long ;  only  in  the  dawn, 
maybe,  you  will  care  to  see  the  great  palace  of 
the  Chigi  and  the  CoUegiata,  with  its  columned 
west  doorway,  its  south  doorway  too,  half 
Lombard,  half  Renaissance  they  tell  you,  its 
columns  resting  upon  lions.  Perhaps  in  that 
hour  you  will  steal  into  the  south  transept 
before  the  first  Mass,  to  see  the  picture  of 
Madonna  there.  But  the  horses  are  waiting, 
and  Nenno,  your  man,  warns  you  of  the  heat 
and  the  length  of  the  way  ;  it  is  necessary  to 
be  off,  where  the  road  leads,  leaving  the  dim 
Sodoma  in  the  Misericordia  unseen  ;  no  such 
mighty  deprivation  after  all,  perhaps,  in  sight 
of  the  woods  and  the  hills. 


OF  THE  WAY  AND  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN    15 

At  first  on  that  wonderful  road  you  descend 
into  Val  d'Orcia,  then  in  the  sunrise  climb- 
ing slowly  again,  under  Vignone,  the  cities 
begin  to  glitter  about  you — Castiglione  d'Orcia, 
like  a  ruined  fortress,  on  your  right ;  Pienza, 
that  lovely  vanity  ;  Montepulciano,  like  a  rose 
on  its  hill,  to  your  left :  and  before  you,  between 
the  mountains,  the  scarped  ruin  of  Radicofani 
soars  like  an  eagle  over  the  valley  on  the  road 
to  Rome.  Midday  will  find  you  there  at  the 
Albergo  under  the  Rocca,  and  evening  will  come 
again  as,  returning  a  little  on  your  way,  you 
climb  at  last,  past  the  horrid  whiteness  of  Bagni 
di  S.  Filippo,  far  beneath  you,  to  Podere  Zaccaria 
on  the  hillside  of  Mont'  Amiata  itself,  to  Abbadia 
di  S.  Salvatore  on  the  verge  of  the  woods. 

Such  is  the  way  from  the  City  to  the 
Mountain.  But  in  the  joy  and  surprise  of  the 
road,  one  has  had  but  little  opportunity,  after 
all,  to  ask  oneself  what  Mont'  Amiata  really  is, 
how  it  came  into  <"\e  power  of  Siena,  by  what 
means  she  held  \,  under  what  law.  What  was 
the  contado  oi  Siena,  in  which  Mont'  Amiata 
was  the  southern  outpost  ? 

It   is  the  mistake,   it  might  seem,    of  much 
popular  criticism  of  our  time,  and  of  almost  all 


1 6  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

descriptive   writings  about    Italy,   to   speak  of 
the  Communes  as  making  an  end  of  Feudalism 
there,  to  picture  them  not  only  as  the  fountain 
of  a  new  and  popular  Liberty,  but  as  continu- 
ally striving  to  free  themselves  from  the  ghost 
of  the  Empire.      However  anxious  we  may  be 
to  thrust  our  own  thoughts,  our  own  manner  of 
thinking,  upon  an  outmoded  and  an  alien  world, 
no  enthusiasm  can    excuse   a  mistake  so  pro- 
found as  this  ;  for  dream  though  we  may  admit 
the  Holy  Roman  Empire  to  have  been,  it  was 
one  which  in  the  Middle  Age  haunted  men's 
minds  persistently,  so  prone  are  we  at  all  times 
to  mistake  the  Past  for  the  Future.     It  is  for 
this  reason  that  no  account  of  Mont'  Amiata 
can   be    complete   without    some   notice  of   its 
peculiarly  feudal  character,  feudal,  that  is,  not 
merely  under  the  Abbots  of  S.   Salvatore,  the 
Aldobrandeschi  of  Santa    Flora,  the    Visconti 
of  Campiglia  d'Orcia,  but  also  in  its  relation  to 
the   Commune   of  Siena ;  for  Siena,  herself  a 
corporate  feudatory    of  the    Empire,    was  the 
suzerain  of  her  contado,  that  region  of  Tuscany 
where   possibly   feudalism  lingered  longest,   in 
which  Mont'  Amiata  was  undoubtedly  the  most 
feudal  part. 

Professor   Rondoni  has    well   said    that  the 


OF  THE  WAY  AND  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN    17 

Feuds  and  the  Communes  of  Italy  were  the 
result,  the  manifestation  as  it  were,  of  the  same 
social  conditions ;  their  fundamental  principles 
were  identical,  their  differences  merely  differ- 
ences of  detail.  The  Communes  were  indeed 
neither  more  nor  less  than  the  great  Feuda- 
tories of  the  Italian  kingdom,  and  "in  the  eye 
of  the  law  "  their  relation  to  the  Emperor  was 
the  same  as  that  of  the  Dukes  and  Maroraves 
of  Germany.  He,  as  Lord  Paramount  of  the 
World,  the  Keystone  of  the  Feudal  Arch,  held 
as  it  were  from  God  Himself;  they  were  his 
tenants  in  capite,  while  the  nobles  of  their 
contadi  who  submitted  to  their  suzerainty 
became  thereby  arrere  vassals. 

It  is  true  that  within  the  walls  of  the  cities 
Feudalism  soon  languished,  so  that  as  time 
went  on  the  relation  of  the  citizens  with  one 
another  was  often  regulated  by  laws  which 
were  rather  Latin  than  Teutonic  ;  indeed,  it  is 
possible  that  these  laws  were  Latin  from  the 
first.  But  nevertheless  the  relations  of  the 
cities  with  their  dependencies  remained  feudal 
to  the  last. 

Cut  off  from  the  open  and  laughing  valley 
of  the  Arno,  Siena  reigned  in  the  heart  of 
Tuscany,    sending  her   name   through   all   the 


1 8  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

wide  region  of  the  Maremma  and  of  Amiata, 
from  the  mountains  to  the  sea.  In  those  long 
and  deep  valleys,  on  those  barren  hills,  on 
that  solitary  seashore  with  its  vast  swamps 
breathing  miasma  and  death,  there  were  no 
great  cities ;  the  glory  of  Pupolonia  was 
departed ;  Roselle,  once  so  mighty,  was  a 
vision ;  in  that  mysterious  land,  without  in- 
dustry, without  commerce,  only  small  and 
stunted  Communes  could  exist.  But  as  though 
in  a  congenial  soil,  Feudalism  took  root  there 
and  flourished  greatly,  so  that  Tommasi, 
writing  in  the  seventeenth  century,  could 
declare  that  almost  to  his  day  the  Maremma 
of  Siena  was  full  of  petty  feudal  chieftains, 
Signorotti  he  calls  them,  who  lorded  it  as  they 
would. 

And  truly  this  is  no  strange  thing.  In  the 
open  plains  among  great  and  eager  cities,  as  in 
Lombardy  and  Val  d'Arno,  though  Feudalism 
as  a  system  of  government  doubtless  remained, 
the  feudal  Baronage  soon  passed  away  ;  but  it  is 
not  surprising  that  here  in  the  Sanese,  in  the 
narrow  valleys  of  Ombrone  and  Merse,  on  the 
mountains  of  Cetona  and  Radicofani,  in  the 
broken  hills  of  Chlanti  and  among  the  squalid 
villages  and  desolate,  ruined  cities  of  the  coast, 


OF  THE  WAY  AND  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN    19 

feudal  lords  were  able  to  maintain  themselves 
for  centuries.  Indeed,  such  places  might  seem 
to  have  been  contrived  by  Nature  herself  for 
those  lawless  chieftains,  their  appalling  customs, 
their  private  warfare,  for  offence  or  defence  ; 
and  there,  too,  were  deer  and  wild  boar  in 
abundance,  and  poor  terrazzani  and  contadini 
— how  little  better  in  their  eyes — to  plunder 
and  to  oppress. 

Such  was  this  country,  long  and  long  ago, 
which  Siena  was  destined  to  covet  and  to 
conquer.  And  nowhere  did  she  encounter 
more  prolonged  resistance  than  in  Mont' Amiata, 
the  most  obstinately  feudal  stronghold  of  a 
pre-eminently  feudal  state.  There,  why,  there 
was  the  eyrie  of  the  Visconti  of  Campiglia,  the 
great  ecclesiastical  feud  of  the  Abbots  of 
S.  Salvatore,  the  well-nigh  impregnable  fortress 
of  Santa  Flora,  the  capital  of  the  Contea 
Aldobrandesca. 

How  quiet  those  old  fierce  lordships  are 
to-day !  Over  the  ruined  fortress  of  the 
Visconti  a  wooden  cross,  crowned  with  an  old 
ofarland,  counts  the  innumerable  hours.  In  the 
village  beneath  men  loiter  and  laugh  together, 
a  mother  in  her  doorway  feeds  her  little  son ; 


20  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

in  the  fields  the  maidens  sing  as  the  goats 
follow  them  home.  Why,  the  flowers,  those 
fragile  things,  have  outlived  the  Visconti !  The 
hope  there  is  in  that ! 

And  the  Conti  Aldobrandeschi  of  Santa 
Flora,  Aldobrandino,  Guglielmo,  Bonifazio, 
and  that  Umberto,  whom  Dante  met  in 
Purgatory,  what  has  befallen  them  ?  Whither 
are  they  gone  ?  Can  it  be  that  a  name  so  very 
glorious,  so  great  a  lordship,  so  potent  a 
tyranny  is  forgotten  out  of  mind  ?  Can  their 
earth  bear  grapes  and  not  tremble  lest  they 
come  ?     Ah,  it  minds  them  not.  .  .  . 

Last  night,  as  I  drove  home  to  Abbadia 
S.  Salvatore  from  Arcidosso,  I  passed,  as  all 
who  go  in  or  out  must  still  do,  under  their 
great  fortress  palace,  and,  lo !  where  of  old 
their  guards  sat,  that  devil  Giovagnolo,  it  may 
be,  among  them,  now  the  children  were  playing 
in  the  shadow,  the  children  of  those  who 
perhaps  were  once  their  serfs.  And  once  more 
I  seemed  to  understand  that  hard  saying : 
Blessed  are  the  meek  for  they  shall  inherit  the 
earth. 


Ill 

THE  HISTORY  OF  ABBADIA 
S.  SALVATORE 

A  BBADIA  S.  SALVATORE  is  the  most 
■^^*'  ancient  and  the  most  populous  of  all  the 
villages  of  Mont'  Amiata.  To-day,  in  any 
superficial  view  of  it,  a  mere  picturesque 
huddle  of  houses,  nearly  three  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea  on  the  eastern  flank  of  the 
highest  mountain  in  Tuscany,  its  secret  lies  in 
the  fact  that  it  is  an  almost  perfectly  preserved 
mediaeval  Castello,  a  walled  village,  built 
beside  an  abbey  of  Benedictines.  Standing 
as  it  does  on  the  verge  of  those  immense 
woods  of  beech  and  chestnut  that  cover  the 
enormous  cone  of  Mont'  Amiata,  from  any 
distant  view,  from  Radicofani  for  instance,  it  is 
difficult  to  distinguish  it  from  the  shadow  of 
the  trees,  the  stones  and  boulders  that  hem 
it  in,  the  immense  sweep  of  the  forest  that,  in 
autumn,  like  a  sea  of  fire  streaming  down  from 


2  2  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

the  ancient  crater  of  the  mountain,  breaks 
everywhere  about  it  over  the  silent  valley  of 
the  Paglia. 

And  its  prospect  is  of  a  thousand  hills  and 
valleys.     Before  it,  across  the  dumb  gorge  of  the 
Paglia,   Radicofani  rises  like  a  haggard  boast 
between  the  valleys,  bearing  on  its  back  the 
road   to    Rome ;    beyond,    over   the    invisible 
broad  valley  of  the  upper  Orcia,  rises  the  Cetona 
range,  with  S.  Casciano  and  Celle  very  visible 
to   the    right  of   Monte   Cetona   herself;   and 
behind  her,  on  a  clear  day  islanded  in  the  blue 
air,  one  may  see  the  round  tops  of  the  Umbrian 
hills    to    far-away   Subasio    above    Assisi    and 
Spello,  the  heights  over  Spoleto,  the  mountains 
of  Norcia;  while  to  the  left  of  Monte  Cetona 
one  may  descry  the  beautiful  mountains  above 
Gubbio  in  the  range  of  the  central  Appenines. 
To    the    north   the   world    is  bounded   by  the 
mountains  of  the  Casentino,  La  Verna  and  the 
rest,  but  in  spite  of  their  beauty  it  is  southward 
one  looks  oftenest,  across  the  vast  restless  plain 
of  the  Patrimony,  where,  like  a  vision,  like  I 
know   not   what  passionate  and  lovely  thing, 
Monte    Cimino    and    Monte    Venere,    joined 
indissolubly   by   the   marvellous   blue    line    of 
hills,  like  a  bow,  which  marries  them,  rise  on 


HISTORY  OF  ABBADIA  S.  SALVATORE      23 

the  farthest  horizon  in  a  gesture  of  profound 
and  exquisite  beauty  over  the  lake  of  Bolsena 
— twin  pyramids  of  a  visionary  gateway  of  the 
Eternal  City,  for  beyond  lie  the  Campagna 
and  Rome.  And  hitherward,  between  them, 
Montefiascone  rises  on  her  hills,  Viterbo  shines 
at  evening  like  a  white  rose  fallen  on  the  skirts 
of  Monte  Venere. 

Such  is  the  world  which  all  day  long,  visible 
or  invisible  as  the  heat  waxes  or  wanes  in  the 
valleys,  is  spread  out  before  that  little  unknown 
village  in  the  mountains.  And,  indeed,  who 
should  seek  her  out  in  her  poverty,  her  loneli- 
ness, and  her  beauty  ?  Long  and  long  before 
the  summer  grew  so  fierce  the  English,  those 
wanderers,  are  fled  away  to  England  ;  while 
the  Italians,  those,  at  least,  who  seek  for  any 
respite  from  the  accustomed  heat,  are  not  con- 
tent with  so  lonely  a  place  as  this  mountain, 
so  humble  a  hostelry  as  Abbadia  can  afford 
them.  They  are  for  the  gayer  places,  following 
the  world  ;  and  what  is  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore 
to  Vallombrosa  above  Val  d'Arno,  with  its 
huge  hotels,  almost  on  the  main  line  too  ;  or 
Pracchia  in  the  Appenines,  where  you  may  find 
all  the  trifling,  irrepressible  gaiety  of  a  city,  a 
little    wistful,    certainly,    amid    those   towering 


24  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

peaks,  but  comforting  nevertheless  to  those 
who,  having  spoiled  everything  they  could, 
have  at  last  succeeded  with  a  sort  of  noisy  joy 
in  smearing  the  mountains  with  their  own 
vulgarity.  But  for  those  few  among  us  who 
have  loved  silence  and  old  unspoiled  things, 
Abbadia  remains  almost  as  she  used  to  be  in 
the  blessed,  far-off  days  before  the  Italians  were 
created  by  the  Switzers  of  Piedmont,  before 
Rome  began  to  ape  both  New  York  and 
Berlin,  before  Florence  died,  before  Siena  had 
a  motor  omnibus,  or  Venice  a  steamboat,  or 
Perugia  an  electric  tram,  before  the  whole 
valley  of  Spoleto,  where  Christ  talked  with 
Beata  Angela  of  Foligno,  was  noisome  with 
chemical  works.  So  in  Italy  passes  the  glory 
of  the  world,  and  because  of  this  beastliness 
for  very  shame  men  there  cannot  any  longer 
believe  in  God ;  they  are  so  eager  to  spoil  His 
work  for  gold.  Ah !  what  will  they  buy,  I 
wonder,  half  so  lovely,  half  so  precious  as  that 
which  they  had  for  love — as  that  which  they 
have  ruthlessly,  wantonly,  stupidly  destroyed  ? 
Abbadia  S.  Salvatore,  I  said,  remains  almost 
as  in  the  old  days — almost,  but  not  quite.  It 
was  not  to  be  thought  of.  A  new  invasion  of 
the  Barbarians  in  the  shape  of  a  hard-headed 


HISTORY  OF  ABBADIA  S.  SALVATORE     25 

German  Company  has  now  for  some  years 
been  mining  in  the  mountains,  and  its  head- 
quarters are  at  Abbadia,  The  marvel  is  truly 
that  so  little  damage  has  been  done.  The 
place  is  still  a  village,  beautiful  too,  on  the 
verge  of  the  woods ;  the  people,  of  whom  the 
great  part  among  the  men  work  in  the  mines, 
live  still  in  the  old  Castello  ;  the  new  houses  are 
few,  and  after  a  few  days,  if  you  would,  you  might 
forget  that  such  things  as  mines  exist,  if  it  were 
not  for  the  pitiful  story  of  an  old  woman  or  the 
bitter,  fierce  words  of  some  mother  who  fears 
for  her  only  son. 

Abbadia  San  Salvatore,  as  its  name  tells  us, 
owes  its  origin  to  its  monastery,  the  greater 
part  of  which  still  remains,  though  no  longer 
in  possession  of  the  monks.  Set  on  a  rock, 
divided  by  a  deep  gorge  from  the  Castello,  the 
monastery  looks  down  across  the  valley  and 
plain  of  the  Paglia  to  Radicofani  and  the  far 
hills.  Of  old  its  abbots  ruled  many  a  town  and 
hamlet  in  that  restless  plain  or  on  the  moun- 
tains, governing  their  lordship  not  by  the  might 
of  the  crozier  alone,  but  as  powerful  feudal 
Signori,  at  whose  call  many  a  knight  and 
vassal  stood  ready  to  take  the  field.  '*  Their 
feudal    jurisdiction,"    Repetti    tells   us    in    his 


26  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Dizionario,  that  best  of  all  books  about 
Tuscany,  "  their  feudal  jurisdiction  stretched 
over  many  villages,  hamlets  and  Castelli  in 
the  contadi  of  Chiusi,  Sovana,  Toscanella, 
Castro,  Orvieto,  Siena,  Grosseto,  Pupolonia 
and  so  forth."  While  so  great  was  their 
wealth  that,  as  Rondoni  tells  us,  from  the 
middle  of  the  twelfth  century  they  were  able  to 
pay  to  the  Holy  See  (which  declared  them 
immediately  subject  to  itself,  without  the  juris- 
diction of  any  bishop)  two  hundred  and  twenty 
denari  of  gold. 

And  then  the  Abbey  of  S.  Salvatore  in 
Mont'  Amiata  is  perhaps  the  most  ancient 
monastery  of  Regulars  in  all  Tuscany.  Lost 
though  its  origin  is  in  the  mists  of  the 
Longobard  period,  it  is  said  to  have  owed  its 
foundation  to  Rachis,  Duke  of  Friuli,  and  king 
of  that  terrible  people  whom  Charlemagne 
tamed.  According  to  the  legend  current, 
certainly  as  early  as  the  eleventh  century, 
Rachis  had  vowed  to  build  a  convent  in 
Tuscany,  and  while  seeking  a  spot  suitable  for 
his  purpose,  heard  rumours  of  a  miracle  which 
had  befallen  in  Mont'  Amiata.  Certain 
shepherds  (so  it  was  said)  had  seen  in  the 
night,  high  among  the  branches  of  a  great  pine. 


HISTORY  OF  ABBADIA  S.  SALVATORE     27 

a  strange  light  which  now  burned  in  one  sole 
flame,  and  again  broke  starwise  into  three 
rays — obvious  Symbol  of  the  Unity  in  Trinity 
and  the  Trinity  in  Unity.  At  this  time  it 
seems  Rachis  had  already  assumed  the  cowl, 
and,  coming  in  person  to  behold  the  wonder, 
founded  there  a  cloister  and  a  church,  building 
the  altar  upon  the  spot  where  the  mysterious 
tree  had  stood,  as  indeed  one  may  see  to  this 
day.  This  happened  (for  the  legend  is  very 
definite)  in  May  742. 

Others  tell  a  different  story,  and  you  may 
hear  both  from  the  peasants  any  July  night  as 
they  gather  in  the  corn,  to  wit,  that  Rachis 
beheld  the  divine  manifestation  while  he  was 
besieging  Perugia ;  the  Saviour  appearing  to 
him  between  two  burning  torches.  It  is 
perhaps  worthy  of  note  that  Francesco  di  San 
Casino,  the  seventeenth-century  painter  of  the 
fresco  in  the  eastern  chapel  of  the  south  transept 
in  the  Abbey  church,  appears  to  have  known 
and  to  have  remembered  both  versions  of  the 
legend,  since  he  has  painted  the  king  and  the 
queen,  with  their  courtiers,  gazing  upward  at  a 
clump  of  seven  trees — or  is  it  one  tree  with 
seven  trunks  ? — in  the  midst  of  which  Christ 
appears  surrounded  by  a  pale  starlike  radiance. 


28  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Nor  does  the  legend  end  here,  for  it  tells 
further  how  that  Erminia,  Rachis'  queen,  later 
took  the  veil  in  Mont'  Amiata,  together  with 
her  daughter,  and  thereafter  founded  a  new 
convent  at  a  place  called  Ermeta.  There 
Erminia  died,  and  there  she  was  buried  ;  and 
the  good  Gigli  does  not  forget  to  tell  us  that 
in  his  day  certain  hermits  still  dwelt  there.  The 
place  is  now  marked  by  an  old  church  and  a 
cross,  and  thither  the  people  of  Abbadia  make 
pilgrimage  barefoot. 

Whatever  may  be  the  true  origin  of  S. 
Salvatore,  it  is  certain  that  from  the  days 
of  the  Carlovingians,  Popes  and  Emperors 
vied  with  one  another  in  conferring  privileges 
upon  the  monks.  The  earliest  among  the 
Imperial  grants  is  one  of  Lewis  the  Pious  in 
8 1 6,  and  it  is  followed  by  those  of  Lothair  i., 
of  Otho  I.,  of  Otho  III.,  of  Henry  the  Saint, 
and  of  Conrad  the  Salic.  From  these  we  may 
gather  certain  facts  about  the  Abbey.  Otho 
III.,  for  instance,  in  996  granted  the  monks 
numerous  villages,  oratories,  churches,  and 
monasteries,  to  the  end,  as  he  said,  that  they 
might  live  and  pray  God  night  and  day  for  the 
stability  of  the  empire.  And  from  the  same 
diploma    we    learn    that  the  territories  of  the 


HISTORY  OF  ABBADIA  S.  SALVATORE     29 

Abbey  were  conterminous  with,  and  surrounded 
by,  the  feuds  of  the  Aldobrandeschi,  and  by 
those  of  the  Visconti  of  CampigHa  d'Orcia  ; 
a  neighbourhood  which  laid  them  open  to 
perpetual  spoliation  and  invasion.  Indeed,  to 
such  a  pass  did  these  lawless  barons  carry  their 
aggressions,  that  in  1037  the  monks  protested, 
with  tears,  that  by  reason  of  hunger  and 
nakedness  they  were  unable  to  serve  God. 
The  Emperor  Henry  11.  thereupon  took  the 
monastery  under  his  special  protection,  con- 
ferred upon  it  new  territories  in  addition  to  the 
old  ones,  and  decreed  that  henceforward  no 
duke,  marquis,  count  or  viscount  should  dare 
to  do  it  wrong,  or  beat  or  oppress  its 
dependants.  Henry  vi.  confirmed  this  priv- 
ilege, reserving  to  himself  the  right  of  fodi'ttm, 
but  he  again  increased  their  possessions,  and 
recognised  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Abbot  of  S. 
Salvatore  over  Pian  Castagnajo,  Radicofani, 
and  Montelaterone.  In  the  thirteenth  century 
Otho  HI.  and  Frederick  11.  showed  themselves 
equally  anxious  to  afford  the  Abbey  favour  and 
protection. 

Under  such  powerful  patronage  and  pro- 
tection the  monastery  increased,  as  one  might 
suppose,  in   wealth   and  prosperity ;   but  with 


30  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

riches  and  security,  as  it  might  seem,  came 
idleness  and  worse,  till  the  monks  not  only 
grew  careless  of  their  religious  duties  but  even 
neglected  their  temporal  affairs.  At  last,  Pope 
and  Emperor  alike  despairing  of  their  amend- 
ment, the  Benedictines  were  expelled  from  S. 
Salvatore  in  February  1228,  and  their  place 
filled  by  the  Cistercians,  in  whose  hands  the 
Abbey  remained  until  its  suppression  by  the 
Grand  Duke  Pietro  Leopoldo  in  1782. 

Meanwhile,  on  the  hill  over  the  narrow  but 
steep  gorge  which  to-day  on  one  side  divides 
the  Abbey  from  the  village  of  Abbadia  S. 
Salvatore,  the  Castello,  literally  a  walled 
village,  had  risen.  And  this  was  its  origin. 
From  the  sixth  to  the  eleventh  century  the 
need  of  protection  for  life  and  limb  was,  with 
the  mass  of  the  people,  far  more  urgent  than 
the  desire  for  liberty.  The  expedients  they 
adopted  to  win  this  safety  were  various  and 
numerous.  All  of  them,  however,  agreed  in  a 
voluntary  submission,  more  or  less  complete, 
to  some  powerful  protector.  In  those  days, 
and  perhaps  now  too,  the  Church  offered  the 
only  asylum  to  the  destitute  and  oppressed,  and 
many  preferred  to  seek  the  protection  of  a 
monastery  rather  than  to  serve  a  feudal  lord. 


HISTORY  OF  ABBADIA  S.  SALVATORE     31 

Indeed,  the  classes  known  as  Od/a^i and  Donati 
existed  principally,  if  not  entirely,  among  the 
dependants  of  the  Church.  Some  of  them 
gave  themselves  and  all  their  goods  to  a 
convent,  promising  obedience  to  the  abbot, 
and  askinof  in  return  nothing  but  food  and 
clothing ;  thus  constituting  a  new  Order 
distinguished  by  its  duties  and  dress.  Others 
entirely  renounced  their  freedom,  and  gave 
themselves  and  their  descendants  into  per- 
petual servitude;  while  others,  again,  retained 
their  personal  liberty,  and  merely  undertook  to 
pay  an  annual  tribute.  The  rites  and  cere- 
monies which  went  with  these  transactions 
were  as  singular  as  the  principles  from  which 
they  sprang.  Sometimes  the  Oblati  prostrated 
themselves  upon  the  ground,  offering  the  sum 
of  four  denari  in  token  of  the  servitude  which 
they  then  assumed.  Sometimes  they  bound 
themselves  with  the  rope  of  the  church  bell. 
Ducange  and  Mabillon  describe  these  rites  and 
many  more.  And,  indeed,  the  annals  of  the 
Benedictines  contain  vast  numbers  of  such 
contracts,  together  with  the  formalities  observed 
by  the  parties  to  them.  Among  them  are  to 
be  found  many  instances  of  free  men  assuming 
the  quality  of  Glebes  adscripti,  and  submitting 


32  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

to  conditions  more  or  less  oppressive  according 
to  their  necessity.  It  is  often  difficult  to  dis- 
tinguish between  the  Oblati,  the  Servi,  and  the 
Rustici.  But  this  much  seems  certain,  that  the 
dependants  of  the  monasteries,  by  whatever 
name  they  were  called,  formed  one  of  the 
principal  sources  of  the  wealth  of  the  monks. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  Castello  of  Abbadia  S. 
Salvatore  were  thus  originally  the  dependants 
and  serfs  of  the  monks  ;  they  performed  all  the 
labours  of  the  monastery  in  the  kitchen  and  on 
the  land.  They  owed  to  the  abbot  feudal 
duty,  feudal  labour,  feudal  payment.  The 
Missi,  those  sent  officially  by  the  monastery, 
might  gather  what  grapes  they  chose  for  the 
monks  when  they  went  through  the  vineyards — 
and  there  were  grapes,  though  poor  ones,  in  the 
valley  of  the  Paglia  and  toward  Acquapendente 
— and  from  the  hunter  they  exacted  the  head 
and  feet  of  the  wild  boar,  the  shoulder  of  the 
deer.  Those  who  were  rich  enough  to  provide 
six  horses  for  the  service  of  the  monastery 
were  exempt  from  the  tithe  of  bread  and  wine 
(decime  panis  et  vini),  but  all  were  in  a  state  of 
greater  or  less  dependence,  and  all,  or  nearly  all, 
paid  rent. 

Their  lot,  however,  was  gradually  amelior- 


HISTORY  OF  ABBADIA  S.  SALVATORE      33 

ated,  as  we  may  see  from  a  document  published 
by  Professor  Zdekauer.  For  in  121 2,  during 
the  rule  of  Abbot  Rolland,  Rollandus,  Abbas 
Sancti  Salvatoris,  on  the  petition  of  Petacio 
and  Merisio,  consuls  of  the  Castello  {Castri 
Abbatie  Consules),  they  were  finally  granted 
certain  rights  :  as,  the  right  to  elect  consuls, 
a  practice  which  had  grown  up  surreptitiously ; 
the  right  of  the  son,  the  grandson  and  the 
nephew  to  inherit  all  the  wealth  of  the  father, 
grandfather,  and  uncle,  and  vice  versa,  not 
merely  by  the  goodwill  of  the  Abbot,  but  of 
right ;  the  right  to  make  a  money  payment 
in  place  of  feudal  labour.  Thus,  as  Rondoni 
reminds  us,  three  years  before  the  English 
Barons  won  their  rights  at  Runnymede  these 
mountain  serfs  had  also  demanded  and  obtained 
their  Magna  Charta.  The  triumph  was  all 
the  greater  because  both  Pope  and  Emperor 
had  always  favoured  the  Abbots,  and  pro- 
tested against  the  pretences  of  the  subject 
villages  to  elect  officers,  to  obtain  Statutes, 
and  to  deny  the  Abbots  their  tithes.  But 
the  population  of  the  Castello  had  increased, 
and  from  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century  many 
of  the  Communes  of  Mont'  Amiata  had  con- 
tinued the  struggle  for  liberty  in  spite  of 
3 


34  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Imperial  diplomas  and  Papal  excommunica- 
tions. In  January  1236  we  find  the  men  of 
the  Castel  della  Badia  S.  Salvatore  electing 
for  Podesta  Raineri  di  Stefano  of  Orvieto 
without  consulting  the  Abbot,  so  that  on 
February  16  Pope  Gregory  ix.  issued  a 
Bull  against  the  two  Communes  of  Castel 
della  Badia  and  Montelaterone,  because  they 
refused  the  accustomed  services  to  the  Abbey. 
On  February  29  the  Abbadinghi  were  ex- 
communicated ;  and  so  the  struggle  went  on 
until,  some  half  a  century  later,  in  1288,  we 
find  the  people  of  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore  affirming 
the  independence  of  the  Castello  and  making 
their  Statute  without  the  leave  of  the  Abbot. 

Dry  and  arid  as  the  details  must  appear  to 
any  one  not  already  interested  in  such  things, 
it  is  not  without  a  certain  emotion  one  reads 
them  in  Abbadia  itself.  For  the  Castello  is 
— as  it  has  always  been — a  walled  village, 
filled  to  overflowing  with  a  delightful  but 
somewhat  fierce  mountain-folk ;  possessed  of 
all  the  kindness  of  such  people,  and  independ- 
ent, too,  beyond  any  other  Italians  I  ever  met. 
In  thinking  of  their  struggle  for  independence 
it  is  not  unworthy  of  notice  that  they  began 
to   be  successful  when  the  Benedictines  were 


HISTORY  OF  ABBADIA  S.  SALVATORE      35 

expelled  and  the  Cistercians  entered  into  that 
inheritance.  Was  it,  after  all,  because  the 
Benedictines  were  too  lenient  that  they  were 
expelled,  or  that,  with  the  advent  of  new 
masters,  the  Abbadinghi,  ever  suspicious  of 
strangers,  began  to  assert  themselves?  The 
cause  of  the  sudden  decay  of  energy  among 
the  Benedictines  is  hidden  from  us  ;  but  it  is 
interesting,  and  perhaps  instructive,  to  note  that 
it  was  in  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century, 
some  two  generations  before  that  expulsion,  that 
Siena  and  Orvieto  began  to  covet  the  Mountain, 
and  not  least  the  great  ecclesiastical  feud 
of  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore.  The  Communes 
were  born  ;  a  new  link  was  about  to  be  forged 
into  the  feudal  chain,  displacing  the  Abbots 
and  Barons,  who  henceforth  would  claim  no 
longer  directly,  but  through  the  Communes,  from 
the  Emperor  or  the  Church. 

Siena,  by  that  time  the  strongest  and  most 
beautiful  city  in  Southern  Tuscany,  lay  some 
forty  miles  to  the  north,  Orvieto  lay  nearly 
twenty-five  miles  to  the  south-west,  and  like 
a  stronghold  between  them  rose  the  Mountain, 
divided  into  feuds  of  Church  and  Empire. 

Among  the  ancient  fiefs  of  the  Abbots,  as  I 
have  said,  was  the  fortress  of  Radicofani,  the 


36  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

most  striking  feature  in  any  view  from  Abbadia 
itself,  standing  on  a  hill  3000  feet  above  the 
sea  over  the  road  to  Rome,  whether  that  road. 
Via  Francigena,  ran  through  the  Castello  of 
Radicofani  as  it  does  to-day,  or,  as  in  very 
ancient  times,  through  the  valley  of  the  Paglia 
and  the  Borgo  of  Callimala.  The  monks, 
however,  did  not  exclusively  possess  this  strong 
place,  but  it  was  the  taking  of  it  which  brought 
the  Sienese  into  the  domain  of  the  monastery. 
For  in  1138,  in  the  parliament  of  the  Sienese 
people  assembled  before  the  Church  of  S. 
Cristoforo,  the  Count  Manente  granted  to 
Rainerio,  Bishop  of  Siena,  a  sixth  part  of 
Radicofani  and  its  mountain.  Under  cover  of 
this  transaction  the  Sienese  made  more  than 
one  attempt  to  possess  themselves  of  the 
place,  and  in  1145,  the  army  of  the  Commune 
being  in  Mont'  Amiata,  in  sul  piano  deW 
Abbadia,  compelled  the  Abbot  to  swear 
neither  to  avenge  himself  for  the  injuries  which 
he  had  suffered  at  their  hands,  nor  to  seek 
compensation  for  them.  Further,  he  under- 
took to  save  and  defend  the  inhabitants  of 
Siena,  together  with  their  possessions,  to  hold 
in  Radicofani,  in  the  name  of  the  Commune, 
that  part  thereof  which  belonged  to  the  Sienese, 


HISTORY  OF  ABBADIA  S.  SALVATORE      37 

and  to  give  them  free  access  thereto,  so  that 
in  case  of  war  they  might  be  able  to  use  the 
place  against  any  one  save  the  Abbot  and  his 
monks.  Thus  the  Communes  dealt  with 
the  nobles,  and  it  is  interesting  to  see  that 
they  had  as  litde  respect  for  an  ecclesiastical 
as  for  a  lay  feud. 

In  1 153,  however,  one  half  of  the  Castello 
of  Radicofani  was  ceded  to  Pope  Eugenius 
III.  for  an  annual  census  of  six  silver  marks, 
as  Repetti  tells  us.  In  1198  the  Commune 
of  Orvieto  comes  on  the  scene,  assuming 
the  defence  and  protection  of  the  monastery, 
the  monks  undertaking  to  pay  them  twenty 
soldi  yearly ;  while  five  years  later,  Abbot 
Roland  promised  de  consilio  totius  nostri 
Collegii  to  pay  a  further  sum  of  thirty  soldi  of 
Sienese  money  by  way  of  rent  for  all  the 
possessions  of  the  Church  of  S.  Salvatore,  and 
to  make  peace  and  war  at  the  command  of  the 
Commune  with  all  save  the  Pope  and  Emperor 
and  their  successors.  In  return  the  Consuls 
of  Orvieto  bound  themselves  to  aid  and  defend 
the  Abbot  and  his  successors,  their  towers  and 
possessions,  as  citizens  and  subjects  of  the 
Commune.  Thenceforward,  for  nearly  a 
century    and    a    half,    Orvieto    succeeded     in 


38  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

maintaining  her  hold  upon  Abbadia  S.  Salva- 
tore ;  and  the  removal  of  the  Benedictines,  in 
1229,  to  make  way  for  the  Cistercians  in  no 
way  affected  her  position.  Indeed,  at  that 
time  we  find  the  Pope  recommending  the 
monastery  and  its  wealth  to  their  protection  ; 
while  in  1232  the  Commune  condemned  the 
Abbot  in  forty  lire  of  Sienese  money  because 
he  refused  to  make  war  against  Siena  at  their 
command.  Siena,  however,  even  at  the  lowest 
ebb  of  her  fortunes  refused  to  abandon  her 
claims  in  Mont'  Amiata.  Indeed,  in  1264, 
during  the  Ghibelline  ascendency,  which 
followed  the  battle  of  Monteaperto,  she  com- 
pelled the  monks  to  acknowledge  her  suzer- 
ainty ;  but  the  Orvietans  soon  re-established 
their  authority,  and  it  was  not  until  1347  that 
Abbadia  S.  Salvatore  finally  became  part  of 
the  Sienese  dominion. 

The  political  vicissitudes  of  the  Abbey  may 
seem,  indeed,  of  but  little  importance,  since 
the  main  interest  of  the  history  of  Mont'  Amiata 
lies  in  the  lone  struesfle  of  the  rural  Communes 
for  liberty  and  rights.  Isolated  as  they  were, 
and  practically  without  other  assistance  from 
the  fourth  century  onwards,  they  fought  their 
way     to     freedom.       Here    in     Abbadia    the 


HISTORY  OF  ABBADIA  S.  SALVATORE      39 

authority  of  the  Abbots  was  consistently  up- 
held by  Popes  and  Emperors  ;  yet  in  spite  of 
Imperial  privileges  and  Papal  excommunica- 
tions the  rebellion  against  feudal  tyranny 
continued  from  generation  to  generation,  until, 
as  we  have  seen,  the  right  to  frame  Statutes 
and  to  elect  officials  was  reluctantly  conceded. 

Such  is  the  story  of  this  Abbey,  half 
fortress,  half  monastery,  on  the  verge  of  the 
chestnut  woods,  3000  feet  above  the  sea, 
on  the  eastern  flank  of  Mont'  Amiata.  And 
if  after  many  weeks  in  such  a  place  one  dares 
to  ask  oneself,  Are  the  people  happier,  stronger, 
better,  to-day  now  that  there  are  no  more  any 
monks  in  the  Mountain,  and  the  Abbey  is 
falling  into  ruin,  and  a  German  Company, 
mining  for  quicksilver,  works  almost  the  whole 
male  population  in  gangs  of  two  hundred  and 
fifty  at  a  time,  eight  hours  each  day,  by  day 
and  night,  Sundays  and  weekdays  alike,  under 
the  earth  in  the  dark  ?  one  is  compelled  to 
answer,  No ;  or  at  least,  if  you  have  the  mis- 
fortune to  be  anti-clerical,  to  shake  the  head  in 
doubt.  It  is  most  strange  at  night  to  see  the 
procession  of  miners,  in  any  real  way  (though 
there  be  nothing  good  or  bad  but  thinking 
makes  it  so)  not  less  serfs  than  their  ancestors, 


40  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

flocking  back  from  the  mines  to  their  Castello, 
that  walled  village  of  the  eleventh  century, 
where  the  Oblates  of  the  Benedictine  Order 
lived  and  worked,  well,  at  least,  in  the  good 
sun.  And  I  who  have  seen  here  so  many 
strong  men  fed  like  little  children  by  their 
mothers,  their  wives,  their  daughters,  because 
of  the  terrible  trembling  that  mercury  poison- 
ing brings  to  us,  can  find  in  my  heart  only 
hatred  of  those  alien  barbarian  money-makers, 
who,  unlike  the  monks,  have  no  care  at  all 
either  for  the  bodies  or  for  the  souls  of  those 
who  serve  them.^ 

^  As  this  book  is  passing  through  the  press,  I  learn  that  my 
friend,  Dr.  Giglioli  of  Florence,  has  been  up  to  the  Abbadia  S. 
Salvatore,  to  try  to  set  this  matter  right  by  establishing  baths 
for  the  miners  and  explaining  to  them  the  necessity  in  their 
employment  of  daily  bathing.  It  is  to  be  hoped  this  will  have 
some  effect  on  the  health  of  the  people. 


IV 

THE  BADIA 

"PIO  II.  in  that  rare  book  of  Commentarii, 
•^  one  of  the  most  living  and  delightful 
books  of  the  early  Renaissance,  describes 
Abbadia  S.  Salvatore,  very  happily  and,  as 
it  might  seem,  not  without  enthusiasm.  Flee- 
ing from  the  heat  of  Rome,  his  eyes  ever 
turned  towards  his  beloved  Siena,  he  came  to 
the  Mountain  in  the  summer  of  1462,  living 
in  the  monastery,  and  passing  the  days  for  the 
most  part  under  the  chestnut  trees,  where  he 
received  ambassadors  and  composed  his  Bulls. 
To-day  a  stone  monument  marks  the  place  where 
the  great  tree  stood  in  whose  shadow  he  held 
his  court ;  it  bears  the  following  inscription  : — 

PIVS  II. 

PONT.   MAX. 

AESTIVOS  VRBIS 

FVGIENS   ARDORES 

CASTANEARVM 

VMBRA  ALLECTVS 

HIC  CONSTITVTIO 

NES   FACIEBAT  ET 

LEGATOS  AVDIEBAT 

AD    1463 
41 


42  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

That  he  loved  the  place  who  can  doubt? 
"This  place,"  he  writes,  speaking  of  Abbadia, 
"  is  in  Mont'  Amiata,  and  to  none  of  the  Castelli 
of  this  most  pleasant  Mountain  does  it  yield 
in  amenity.  Looking  eastward,  and,  as  one 
might  say,  equally  distant  from  the  summit  of 
Mont'  Amiata  and  from  the  river  of  the  Paglia, 
it  is  set  on  a  little  plain  almost  a  mile  round 
about,  filled  with  great  chestnut  trees  and 
closed  by  bitter  rocks  and  the  great  precipices 
over  the  valley.  There  even  of  old  was  set 
the  Castello,  defended  on  the  one  side  by  the 
cliffs  and  rocks,  and  on  the  other  by  great 
walls  and  a  ditch  through  which  run  the  living 
waters  of  the  Mountain  plentiful  and  copious. 
The  plain  before  the  Castello  is  brought  into 
culture,  the  greater  part  of  it  being  garden, 
the  rest  fields.  And  here,  too,  is  that  Abbey, 
built  of  old,  provided  with  proper  dwellings. 
There  live  the  Bishop  and  six  Cardinals.  .  .  ." 
To-day  the  Abbey  which  Pio  ii.  in  the 
fifteenth  century  found  so  fair  is  almost  a  ruin  ; 
the  monks  are  gone,  the  treasury  has  been 
rifled,  the  library  carried  to  Florence  ;  and  this 
is  the  work  not  of  the  universal  robber  and 
vandal  United  Italy,  but  of  Pietro  Leopoldo, 
who,    coming    to    the     place    in      1782,    was 


THE  BADIA  43 

welcomed  eagerly  by  the  monks  and  the 
people.  And  when  he  came  into  the  monas- 
tery he  found  there  set  out  for  his  delight,  to 
do  him  honour,  all  the  ancient  plate  and  wealth 
of  the  Abbey.  Whether  it  was  then  the 
thought  came  to  him,  or  whether  it  had  already 
been  born  in  his  heart,  I  know  not ;  but,  when 
he  went  away,  the  monks,  thinking  they  still 
had  his  favour,  asked  to  be  allowed  to  quarter 
the  Grand  Ducal  arms  with  theirs.  His 
answer  was,  he  would  send  them  word  from 
Florence.  Then  from  Florence  he  sent  a 
representative  bidding  the  people  ask  of  him 
what  they  would,  for  he  intended  to  suppress 
the  monastery ;  but  they  were  only  afraid  and 
bewildered,  and  instead  of  asking  a  great  thing, 
besought  of  him  three  priests  to  say  Mass  for 
them  ;  nor  would  they  be  persuaded  to  accept 
any  other  gift,  though  it  was  explained  to  them 
that  they  might  have  their  priests  for  nothing. 
Such  is  the  simplicity  of  folk  who,  having  been 
robbed,  think  only  ever  after  of  their  most 
priceless  possession.  Nor  are  they  much 
changed  in  spite  of  United  Italy,  and  the  long- 
haired Socialists  who  win  both  the  laughter 
and  applause  of  these  children  in  the  little 
Piazza  in  the  Castello.     Not  so  long  ago,  one 


44  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

early  spring,  many  of  them  were  starving,  or 
almost  starving,  for  the  snow  fades  but  slowly 
in  that  endless  forest,  and  food  is  at  best  hard 
to  come  by.  So  the  Syndic,  good  man,  pre- 
pared to  devote  the  money  usually  paid  for 
a  lenten  preacher  to  the  relief  of  the  poor. 
But  it  was  not  to  be.  The  very  poor  who 
were  to  be  relieved,  starving  as  they  were, 
raised  an  insurrection,  and  insisted  on  having 
their  usual  Predicatore. 

The  days  when,  as  Pio  ii.  tells  us,  the  Abbey 
welcomed  a  Pope,  a  Bishop,  and  six  Cardinals 
were  over.  Gherardini,  however,  in  the  Visita 
dello  Stato,  asserts  that  in  1676  there  lived  in 
the  Abbey  nine  Sacerdoti,  three  Professi,  two 
Laid,  and  that  it  possessed  an  income  of  three 
hundred  scudi  a  year.  To-day  everything  but 
the  church  is  a  ruin.  The  monastery,  pictur- 
esque enough  still,  is  divided  among  the  school- 
children, certain  contadini,  and  pigs,  asses, 
goats,  and  dirt. 

As  you  come  from  Mont'  Amiata  station,  or 
from  Radicofani,  almost  the  first  house  you 
must  pass  on  coming  in  to  Abbadia  is  the  Abbey 
itself,  its  great  gateway,  fifty  yards  from  the 
church,  opening  on  the  road  itself  which  passes 
outside  the  village,  and  on  and  on  round  the 


THE  BADIA  45 

whole  Mountain  at  an  average  height  of  more 
than  2000  feet.  Entering  that  gateway, 
and  following  the  stony  road  towards  the 
church,  you  come  upon  a  kind  of  lodge, 
a  great  archway,  the  second  gate  of  the 
monastery,  where  to  right  and  left  is  a  door, 
and  over  them  the  old  inscriptions.  On  the 
one  side  was  the  office  for  the  affairs  of  second 
instance,  and  on  the  other  for  the  affairs  of  widows 
and  infants.  Tommasi  tells  us,  under  the  year 
1462,  that  in  criminal  affairs  Abbadia  was  in 
the  jurisdiction  of  the  capitano  di  giustizia  of 
Radicofani,  and  for  civile  e  niisto  there  resided 
in  Abbadia  a  Podesta  nobile  Sanese,  who  began 
his  office  in  the  kalends  of  July  for  a  year, 
receiving  10 16  lire  in  pay,  but  he  was  obliged 
to  pay /^r  le  spedizioni  272  lire,  and  to  main- 
tain a  notaio  that  the  auditor  generale  di  Piano 
assigned  to  him.  The  jurisdiction  of  the 
Podesta  extended  alia  Paglia  e  Legna ;  but 
it  was  only  one  of  first  instance,  because  the 
court  of  second  instance  remained  to  the  Abbot, 
as  did  the  causes  of  widows  and  infants,  and 
these  he  judged  privately. 

The  church  itself,  which  stands  to  the  east 
of  the  second  gate,  is  even  to-day,  full  as  it  is 
of  all  the  tawdriness   of  the  seventeenth  and 


46  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

eighteenth  centuries,  a  very  beautiful  building. 
In  plan  cruciform  with  a  shallow  apse,  the 
nave  is  spanned  by  three  great  round  arches, 
each  smaller  than  the  one  westward  of  it.  The 
transepts  form  chapels,  and  now  along  the 
nave  tawdry  altars  are  placed,  over  which  are 
frescoes  of  the  seventeenth  century,  only  one 
of  which  can  have  any  interest  for  us.  It  is 
that  over  the  first  altar  to  the  left.  There 
some  seventeenth-century  painter,  probably 
Casinus,  though  Tommasi  calls  him  Cav. 
Guiseppi  Nasini,  has  repainted  a  fresco  of 
the  presentation  to  the  monks  of  models  of 
the  Abbey  by  Rachis.  Certain  of  these  models 
are  said  to  be  still  in  Abbadia,  while  one,  I  was 
told,  was  in  Florence,  but  I  have  not  been  able 
to  find  them. 

The  transept  and  the  chancel  of  the  church 
are  guarded  by  a  beautiful  iron  railing,  and  it 
is  in  the  chapels  of  the  transepts,  and  more 
especially  in  the  south  chapel,  that  any  interest 
we  may  still  find  in  the  church  lies.  There 
over  the  altar  is  the  Crucifix,  carved  out  of 
the  great  chestnut  or  pine  in  which  Rachis  or 
another  saw  the  vision  of  our  Lord.  Carved 
by  some  local  artist  in  the  thirteenth  century, 
when  the   tree  which  grew  on  this  very  spot, 


THE  BADIA  47 

and  whose  roots  still  moulder  in  the  earth, 
under  the  lower  church,  was  cut  down,  it  is  not 
without  a  certain  homely  beauty  ;  and  still,  as 
they  say,  works  miracles,  for  in  their  troubles, 
in  drought  or  great  snow,  for  instance,  they 
uncover  it,  and,  as  I  know,  not  without  hope 
of  comfort.  Under  the  altar  is  a  fresco  older 
than  the  rest,  of  Christ  in  the  tomb  of  Joseph, 
surrounded  by  angiolini.  On  the  right  wall 
Casino  has  painted  Rachis  hunting  about 
Chiusi,  where  he  hears  the  rumour  of  the 
vision ;  on  the  left,  he,  with  his  queen  and 
courtiers,  sees  the  very  Christ  Himself  in  the 
early  morning  light,  like  a  wonderful  star 
shining  in  a  group  of  seven  pines,  on  the  litde 
hill  on  which  the  Abbey  now  stands  ;  and  this 
fresco  Casino  has  signed  Franciscus  S,  Casinus. 

These  frescoes,  like  those  in  the  chapel  of 
the  north  transept,  doubtless  replaced  older 
ones,  faded  perhaps,  or  spoiled  with  candle 
smoke,  when  in  the  seventeenth  century  the 
church  was  restored.  To-day  in  that  north 
chapel  there  remains  nothing,  or  almost  nothing, 
of  interest,  a  Madonna  and  Child,  a  miracle 
picture  over  the  altar,  by  some  late  painter 
of  the  seicento,  a  fresco  of  the  Presentation 
of  the  Virgin,  and  another  of  the  Visitation. 


48  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

In  his  Italia  Sacra,  Ughelli  gives  a  long 
list  of  the  relics  which  in  his  day  were  treasured 
in  the  Abbey  church.  Among  the  rest  were — 
a  piece  of  the  True  Cross,  part  of  the  Sudario 
which  covered  the  face  of  our  Lord,  part  of 
the  sheet  in  which  His  Body  was  wrapped, 
part  of  the  stone  which  stood  before  His 
Sepulchre,  part  of  the  sponge  which  the 
soldiers  offered  Him  filled  with  vinegar  when 
He  said  '*  I  thirst,"  part  of  His  P^-esepio, 
part  of  the  rock  on  which  He  stood  at  the 
time  of  His  Transfiguration,  part  of  the  rock 
whereon  He  sat  when  He  fed  the  five  thousand 
in  the  wilderness,  part  of  the  stone  on  which 
He  stood  when  He  preached  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount ;  the  marvellous  Bible  which  S. 
Gregory  wished  to  see,  and  which  is  said  to 
have  contained  a  plan  of  the  Temple  of 
Solomon.  Thus  the  treasures  of  the  monas- 
tery were  in  keeping  with  its  name,  St.  Saviour  ; 
but  of  these  I  think  not  one  remains.  Amonof 
countless  Relics  given  to  the  Abbey  in  1036, 
on  the  occasion  of  its  consecration,  the  most 
venerated,  and  perhaps  the  most  curious,  seems 
to  be  the  head  of  Pope  Marcus.  This  strange 
possession  is  enclosed  in  a  bronze  reliquary,  cast 
in  the  likeness  of  the  Pope  ;  it  seems  to  be  a  work 


THE  BADIA  49 

of  the  fourteenth  century,  is  certainly  Tuscan, 
and  may  be  from  the  hand  of  some  local  founder. 
All  the  interest  that  a  place  so  spoiled  by 
restoration  still  possesses  is  not,  however,  con- 
fined to  the  church  we  know  as  S.  Salvatore. 
For  the  good  priest,  if  you  are  friends  with 
him,  and  he  is  a  black  Catholic,  not  partial 
to  heretics,  will  lead  you  out  again  into  the 
courtyard,  and,  descending  a  long  flight  of 
steps,  open  a  door  under  the  southern  transept 
of  the  present  church,  when  suddenly  you  will 
find  yourself  on  the  threshold  of  a  lower  church, 
subterranean  now,  and  perhaps  always,  which 
lies  under  the  transept  and  choir  of  the  upper 
church,  which  faces  really  north  and  south.  No 
light  penetrates  into  this  immense  dark  and 
damp  vault,  but  with  the  light  of  tapers  it  is 
possible  to  examine  it  without  too  much  dis- 
comfort. It  seems  to  have  been  used  as  a 
burial  place  for  all  the  people  of  the  Castello. 
In  this  corner  and  in  that,  vast  heaps  of  bones 
still  remain,  while  here  a  skull  horribly  grins 
at  you,  there  amid  a  heap  of  dust  great  thigh 
bones  lie,  disorderly,  heaped  there  by  the 
government.  This  lower  church  is  much 
older  than  the  upper  sanctuary.  It  is  upheld 
by  nearly  thirty  pillars,  many  of  them  exqui- 
4 


50  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

sitely  beautiful,  of  the  best  Lombard  work ; 
and  the  capitals  are  carved  variously,  here 
you  may  see  the  heads  of  bulls,  there  men 
and  horses.  Sometimes  the  shafts,  too,  are 
carved  with  a  waving  pattern  ;  and  close  to 
the  door  is  one  on  which  a  great  bishop's 
cross  seems  to  lie  as  though  embedded  in  the 
stone.  Immediately  under  the  chapel  of  the 
Crucifix,  in  the  upper  church,  is  the  root  of  the 
old  tree,  they  tell  you,  in  which  Christ  appeared 
in  a  vision  to  Rachis. 

No  one  visits  this  forgotten  sanctuary  now, 
yet  it  is  far  better  worth  seeing  than  most 
subterranean  churches,  nor  can  I  find  any 
account  of  it  in  any  book.  The  people  of 
Abbadia  know  nothing  of  it,  and  the  parish 
priest,  with  the  best  will  in  the  world,  knows 
nothing  either.  Whether  this  was  the  first 
church  built  by  the  monks,  perhaps  for  security 
in  that  lonely  place,  almost  under  the  ground, 
and  abandoned  later  for  a  more  splendid  build- 
ing above  it  on  the  hillside,  or  whether  it  is  all 
that  remains  of  a  once  splendid  building  con- 
sisting of  an  upper  and  a  lower  sanctuary,  I 
know  not.  It  might  seem  that  here  is  a  subject 
worthy  of  the  zeal  of  some  archaeologist  who  will 
search  the  archives  of  Florence  and  Siena. 


V 

THE  CASTELLO 

A  S  you  pass  the  Castello,  the  walled  village 
-^^-  of  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore  to-day,  on  your 
way  to  Pian  Castagnajo  for  instance,  by  the 
new  road  that,  as  I  have  said,  girdles  the 
whole  Mountain,  you  might  think  it  a  mere 
disordered  huddle  of  houses,  a  sort  of  encamp- 
ment partly  left  from  the  Middle  Age,  partly 
the  hurried,  scamped  work  of  our  own  time, 
just  a  warren  in  which  such  poor  people  as 
miners  must  expect  to  live  almost  everywhere, 
and  certainly  in  so  poor  a  land  as  Italy.  But 
on  closer  acquaintance  you  find  that  the  Castello 
remains  almost  exactly  as  it  has  been  for  cen- 
turies— since  the  sixteenth  century  certainly — 
with  many  a  quarter  dating  really  from  the 
Middle  Age,  practically  the  same  walled  village 
as  that  in  which  of  old  the  Donati  and  Oblati 
of  the  monastery  used  to  live,  in  which  their 


52  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

children  so  quickly  won  their  freedom,  "three 
years  before  the  English  Barons  obtained  their 
rights  at  Runnymede,"  as  Rondoni  is  so  eager 
to  remind  us.  And,  indeed,  save  perhaps 
Castello  di  S.  Eraclio  on  the  Via  Flaminia,  not 
far  from  Foligno,  it  would  be  hard  to  find  a 
more  perfect  example  of  the  mediaeval  Cas- 
tello ;  and  then  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore,  unlike 
Castello  di  S.  Eraclio,  is  the  Castello  of  a 
monastery.  In  those  far-off  days,  when  the 
monastery  stood  alone,  the  monks  no  doubt 
invited  the  people  to  come  and  live  near  them, 
to  place  themselves  under  their  protection, 
really  for  the  safety  of  the  monastery ;  and 
indeed  the  place  is  still  very  solitary  and 
remote.  The  best  idea  of  this  walled  village 
and  of  its  relation  to  the  Abbey  may  be  had 
from  the  Madonna  delle  Grazie,  a  little  dese- 
crated church  used  now  as  a  granary,  to  the 
eastward  of  Abbadia.  One  reaches  it  by  a 
somewhat  steep  and  winding  road,  that  leaves 
the  highway  on  the  left  just  after  the  Abbey 
gate  is  passed,  before  coming  to  the  Castello. 
Following  this  path,  and  passing  under  the 
walls  of  the  village,  you  see  about  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  away  on  the  hillside  Madonna  delle 
Grazie,  and  looking  back  thence  the  monastery 


THE  CASTELLO  53 

and  the  Abbey  stand  before  you  on  their  two 
hills,  separated  by  the  gorge  you  have  skirted 
on  your  way ;  the  Abbey  ringed  about  with 
woods,  the  Castello  a  picturesque  hummock  of 
houses  climbing  up  to  the  Castellina,  strongly 
walled,  crouching  over  the  valley. 

This  village,  so  out  of  the  world,  as  we  might 
say,  for  indeed  the  whole  world  seems  to  lie  at 
its  feet,  so  pathetic  in  its  isolated  littleness,  yet 
modelled  itself  on  the  great  cities  of  Italy. 
Like  them,  Castello  dell'  Abbadia  di  S.  Salva- 
tore  was  divided  into  two  parts,  the  original 
Castello  and  the  Borgo,  and  these,  later,  were 
separated  into  three  regions,  terzieri;  the  first 
called  Borgo  Maggiore,  the  second  Corso  dei 
Fabbi,  the  third  S.  Angelo,  because  of  a 
church  that  once  stood  in  that  part.  Then  the 
Castello  proper  had  four  gates  :  to  wit.  Porta 
deir  Abbadia,  with  its  beautiful  loggia,  which 
looks  towards  the  Abbey ;  Porta  del  Cassaro, 
which  looks  westward,  and  opens  on  the  Corso 
Vittorio  Emanuele,  the  road  to  Pian  Castagnajo  ; 
Porta  Nuova,  which  looks  eastward  towards 
Radicofani ;  and  Porta  della  Porticciola,  which 
leads  down  a  long  flight  of  steps  into  the 
Borgo.  The  Borgo  itself  has  two  gates  :  Porta 
del    Borgo,    which    opens   on    Corso   Vittorio 


54  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Emanuele,  and  Porta  Mulina,  from  which  the 
old  mediaeval  road  to  Radicofani  begins. 

Entering  the  Porta  dell'  Abbadia,  from 
which  the  two  chief  ways  of  the  Castello  Via 
di  Mezzo  and  the  Corso  begin,  following  the 
latter,  narrow  and  dark  enough,  and  lined  with 
mediaeval  houses,  you  soon  come  into  Piazza 
di  S.  Croce,  the  chief  Piazza  of  the  place, 
closed  on  one  side  by  the  old  Palazzo  del 
Podesta  and  on  the  other  by  the  parish  church 
of  S.  Croce.  S.  Croce  is  a  large  building  of 
the  Middle  Age,  restored  almost  out  of  all 
recognition.  And  though  it  be  the  parish 
church,  and  for  all  it  is  so  large,  "one  was 
buried,"  Tommasi  tells  us,  "in  the  Badia :  for 
that  is  the  principal."  There  is  another  church 
in  the  Borgo,  an  Oratory  dedicated  to  S.  Leon- 
ardo. That,  too,  was  under  the  patronage  of 
and  served  by  the  Cistercians.  These  were 
the  only  churches  in  the  Castello  and  Borgo, 
but  within  the  walls  were  established  of  old 
the  Laic  Companies  of  the  SS.  Sacramento, 
S.  Sebastiano,  S.  Michele  Arcangiolo,  S.  Maria 
con  Cappa,  and  the  Congregation  of  the 
Rosary.  Every  trace  of  these  seems  to  have 
vanished,  save  that  over  the  door  of  a  great 
house  in  Via  S.   Maria,  a  street  that  turns  out 


THE  CASTELLO  55 

of  the  Corso  to  climb  up  to  the  CastelHna,  just 
within  Porta  dell'  Abbadia,  you  may  still  find 
the  name  of  the  Company  in  great  Roman 
letters — Santa  Maria ;  and  there,  as  I  suppose, 
was  the  Hospice  of  the  Congregation.  There 
are  still  Laic  Companies  among  the  people,  how- 
ever, but  not  the  old  ones.  The  Company  of 
S.  Marco  Papa,  protector  of  the  Castello, 
founded  in  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
apparently  after  the  suppression  of  the  monas- 
tery, numbers  more  than  four  hundred  members ; 
and  the  Company  of  the  Sacre  Cuore,  that 
strange  modern  extravagance,  full  of  the  usual 
bad  taste  which  the  Jesuits  inherited  from  their 
Spanish  founders,  and  which  has  not  grown  less 
in  the  centuries,  enrols  all  the  children. 

In  the  maze  of  narrow,  airless  streets,  so 
filthy  that  some  twenty-five  out  of  every 
hundred  children  born  die  in  their  first  years,  it 
is  easy  to  lose  one's  way  altogether,  and,  indeed, 
it  is  only  perhaps  the  seeing  eye  that  will  find 
anything  of  interest  in  a  place  so  poor  that  has 
been  left  so  much  to  itself.  And  yet  just  there, 
it  might  seem,  lies  its  value  for  us  who  pass  by. 
Why,  if  you  will  but  see  it,  there  is  not  a  vista 
that  is  not  beautiful,  not  a  single  dilapidated, 
outside  stairway  that  does  not  *'  make  a  picture." 


56  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

You  wander  down  to  Porta  Nuova,and  suddenly, 
as  you  go,  the  old  gate  under  its  tower  frames 
the  bizarre  rock  and  broken  fort  of  Radicofani 
for  you,  a  marvellously  strange,  fantastic  thing, 
full  of  pride,  fierceness,  and  scorn.  And  then, 
great  people  have  lived  here :  Visconti  of 
Campiglia  in  Via  S.  Angelo,  the  Conti  Cervini 
of  Vivo,  too,  in  the  same  street, — their  stag, 
pierced  with  nine  arrows,  is  still  set  over  the 
door ;  but  almost  every  other  house  bears  a 
coat,  and  the  houses  of  the  old  families  of  the 
Sanese,  Carli,  Fracasini,  Cervini,  remain  filled 
now  with  the  poor  and  their  cattle,  the  pigs 
inhabiting  the  ground  floor — where  also  the  grain 
may  be  stored,  or  the  wine  of  the  valley  of 
Paglia — the  people  themselves  the  first,  and  the 
goats  the  second — you  may  hear  them  patter 
up  the  stairway  at  nightfall  any  evening  in 
Abbadia,  led  by  a  little  maid  singing. 

Not  far  from  the  Malatesta  houses  is  Via 
Malatesta,  a  turning  to  the  right  out  of  Via 
Vicenzo  Pinelli,  which  itself,  in  this  maze  of 
byways,  leads  from  Piazza  S.  Croce  to  Porta 
Porticciola.  Passing  along  Via  Malatesta,  you 
come  at  last  into  Piazza  del  Mercato,  the  second 
Piazza  of  the  Castello,  with  its  dilapidated, 
picturesque  porticoes  and  strange  old  houses. 


THE  CASTELLO  57 

and  coming  out  of  it,  in  a  moment  you  find 
yourself  at  Porta  Cassaro,  where,  to  the  left,  is 
an  old  stairway,  and,  over  a  house  close  by,  the 
stemma  of  the  Malatesta. 

It  is  not,  however,  in  the  Castello  or  the 
Borgo  alone  that  the  interest,  such  as  it  is,  of 
Abbadia  S.  Salvatore  lies.  Within  the  walls, 
as  I  have  said,  there  were  but  two  churches,  or 
three  at  most ;  for  of  old,  doubtless,  S.  Angelo 
stood  there  where  Via  Filippo  Neri  turns  out  of 
Via  di  S.  Angelo,  where  a  great  building,  possibly 
in  part  the  old  church,  stands  to  this  day. 

Tommasi  tells  us  in  his  fifth  book  that  in  the 
Corte,  that  is  to  say  the  territory  of  Abbadia, 
there  were  many  oratories  and  chapels.  The 
Oratory  of  Madonna  del  Castagno,  for  instance, 
"very  ornate  and  spacious,"  on  the  verge  of 
the  woods,  on  the  road  to  the  Ermeta ;  the 
Romitorio,  called  the  Ermeta,  itself  dedicated 
to  S.  Cecilia,  hidden  in  the  woods,  built,  as  the 
people  say,  by  Queen  Erminia,  and  maintained 
by  the  monks,  of  which  Pio  11.,  following 
popular  tradition,  speaks  in  his  Commentaries. 
And  then  there  still  stand,  too,  the  Oratory  of 
Madonna  delle  Remedie  on  the  road  to  Plan 
Castagnajo,  just  beyond  the  Torrent ;  the 
Oratory  of  St.  Roch,  spoiled  now  and  turned 


58  IN  TJNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

into  a  Casa  Colonica,  just  opposite  the  Porta 
Cassaro  in  the  country ;  the  Oratory  della 
Madonna  delle  Grazie  nel  Poggio  del  Colle, 
which  v/e  have  seen  ;  the  Pieve  de'  SS.  Jacomo 
and  Cristofano,  called  intrafossata,  spoiled  and 
desecrated,  in  the  fields  towards  Podere  7.2,0.0.2x12^.^ 
and  the  forbidden  Oratories  of  Madonna  a 
Capo  at  Ponte  di  S.  Andrea,  a  mere  heap  of 
ruins  now,  and  S.  Maria  Maddalena,  which  is 
perhaps  the  best  of  all.  For  the  Oratory  of 
S.  Maria  Maddalena,  set  as  it  is  just  within  the 
woods,  on  a  little  hill  on  the  right,  above  the 
road  to  Pian  Castagnajo,  where  it  first  turns 
westward,  less  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from 
the  village,  is  just  a  natural  grotto,  formed  by 
the  volcano  when  spuing  out  the  enormous 
rocks,  many  tons  in  weight,  that  everywhere  lie 
scattered  among  the  trees  on  the  Mountain. 
Just  these  stones  fell  in  the  form  of  a  house, 
one  upon  another,  and  a  greater  fell  before 
them,  leaving  a  little  space  as  though  for  a  door. 
In  the  thirteenth  century,  if  not  before,  the 
people,  as  it  might  seem,  finding  this  sanctuary, 
covered  it  within,  and  without  too,  with  frescoes, 
and  it  is  the  remains  of  these,  altogether  spoiled 
though  they  are  to-day,  that  lends  the  place  its 
interest. 


THE  CASTELLO  59 

How  little,  after  all,  these  facts,  acquired 
with  so  much  labour,  for  love  too,  avail.  They 
are  just  dead  things,  and  are  as  useless  to  us, 
yes,  and  almost  as  pathetically  futile,  as  the 
ashes  of  a  friend — a  friend  who  has  fled  away 
for  ever.  As  I  sit  writing  down  all  these  little 
fragments  of  a  broken  truth  and  reality  that 
has  faded  away,  I  begin  to  realise,  perhaps  for 
the  first  time,  how  useless  and  how  absurd  such 
work  must  ever  be.  Then  I  look  out  of  my 
window  over  the  endless  chestnut  woods, 
flaming  gold  now,  like  a  huge  burning  plain, 
rising  here  and  there  in  great  golden  stairs  to 
the  summit,  bare,  and  almost  blue  or  silver,  and, 
as  often  at  sunset,  capped  with  a  rosy  cloud.  The 
whole  world  from  here  is  fantastic,  and  very 
silent  and  beautiful.  Suddenly  up  the  road 
a  little  girl  comes  singing,  still  a  long  way  off, 
leading  a  great  white  ox  home  to  the  stable 
after  the  labour  of  the  day.  She  is  knitting 
too,  and  her  eyes  are  bent  on  her  work  ;  slowly 
she  comes,  singing  to  herself,  the  cord,  caught 
over  the  great  horns,  looped  on  her  arm. 

The  song  falls  silent,  a  difficult  stitch 
interrupts  the  melody,  then  she  pulls  sweetly 
at  the  great  patient  bullock  and  speaks  to  him 
softly.     As  she  goes  on  her  way  past  the  house, 


Co  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

about  to  sing  again,  suddenly  she  looks  up  and 
sees  me.  She  stops  half  shyly,  and  the  bullock, 
slowly  plodding  behind  her,  lowers  his  head, 
his  great  horns  encircle  her  just  below  the  hips, 
as  though  to  protect  her. 

"Sing  for  me  again,  Madonnina,"  I  say. 
"  Surely  you  have  the  best  voice  in  all 
Abbadia."  But  she  shakes  her  head  shyly. 
"  Felicissima  notte,  Signore,"  she  says,  as  she 
passes  me.  And  I,  watching  her  go,  presently 
hear  her  voice  again  sweetly  through  the 
twilight  on  the  road  to  the  village.  Ah,  what 
beside  that  simple  moment  of  life  are  the  dead 
facts  of  all  the  centuries  ? 


I 


HOMF.WARDS 

Ar.BADIA    S.    SAI.VATOk'E 


VI 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE 
MOUNTAIN 

'  I  ^HE  heat  is  wonderful.  It  is  not  heavy,  as 
-"-  any  great  heat  in  England  always  is,  but 
vehement  and  marvellous,  with  all  the  fierceness 
and  vitality  of  fire,  the  pride  and  beauty  of  the 
sun.  Slowly,  slowly,  the  delicate  shadows 
creep  through  the  vineyards  the  wind  has  died 
in  the  woods ;  in  the  hushed  fields  the  corn 
seems  about  to  burst  into  fiame. 

For  three  days  now  the  Crucifix  in  the  Abbey 
has  been  uncovered,  and  the  whole  village 
seems  to  be  there  all  day  praying  for  rain  ;  a 
strange,  a  marvellous  sight.  And  the  days  are 
not  more  wonderful  than  the  nights.  Each 
day  is  like  a  hard,  bright,  precious  stone,  more 
dazzling  and  more  heartless  than  a  diamond. 
Everything  is  still.  And  the  nights  are  like 
sapphires.  The  sun  delights  and  frightens  me  ; 
it  is  wonderful,  and  a  little  mysterious.     Now 

6i 


62  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

that  they  have  uncovered  the  Crucifix  it  is  as 
though  some  strange  Presence  had  suddenly 
come  into  our  midst. 

One  evening,  not  long  before  sunset,  as  I  lay 
after  the  heat  of  the  day  just  vi^ithin  the  forest, 
not  far  from  a  little  stream  that,  in  spite  of  the 
drought,  still  ran  secretly  under  the  trees  among 
the  stones  out  into  the  parched  valley,  suddenly 
a  cicala  began  to  sing  its  endless  song,  that 
song  which  in  the  olive  gardens  of  Val  d'Arno, 
or  among  the  cypresses  of  Mugello,  so  soon 
grows  to  be  a  burden,  which  only  a  few  weeks 
before  had  driven  me  up  into  the  mountains  in 
search  of  quietness  and  silence.  And  now  I 
found  myself  listening  intently  to  its  dry  com- 
plaint ;  it  was  so  rare  a  thing  in  this  high  place. 
Just  then  a  figure,  not  old,  but  already  a  little 
worn  by  the  wind  of  the  Mountain,  came 
towards  me  along  the  path  beside  the  stream  ; 
and  as  he  was  about  to  pass  by  he  stopped  and 
listened  too,  giving  me  greeting — 

"  Buona  sera,  Signoria." 

He  was  a  man  of  some  fifty  years,  something 
a  little  better  than  a  peasant,  dressed  in  the 
worn,  mean  clothes  of  the  countrymen  all  over 
Central  Italy,  and  in  his  hand  he  carried  a  long, 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN  63 

untrimmed  staff  lately  cut  from  the  brushwood 
of  the  chestnuts.  But  it  was  his  eyes  which 
first  caught  me,  surprising  me  by  their  swiftness 
and  their  laughter.  Every  now  and  then,  as  he 
listened,  he  shook  back  from  his  forehead  the 
great  untidy  locks  of  hair,  already  a  little  grey, 
that  tumbled  about  his  head  under  his  great 
soft  hat.     Presently  he  spoke  to  me  again — 

*'  Senta,  Signoria,"  he  said,  waving  his  hand 
towards  the  trees  where  the  cicala  was  singing, 
"  Senta,  Signoria,  even  the  Saints  cannot  escape 
the  importunity  of  the  barren  woman." 

"What  is  your  name?"  I  said,  smiling  at 
him.  "  And  what  have  the  gods  to  do  with 
the  cicale,  they  always  seemed  to  me  to  belong 
to  quite  Other  People." 

"And  the  Signore  is  right.  Ah,  be  sure." 
He  stood  still,  listening  again.  Then,  as  I 
made  room  in  the  shadow  beside  me,  he  came 
towards  me. 

"  I  am  the  President  of  the  Mountain,"  he 
said,  "and  my  name  is  Ser  Giovanni.  I  know 
the  Mountain  as  no  one  has  ever  known  it.  .  .  . 
If  the  Signore  should  wish  to  go  to  the  Cima, 
now  that  the  nights  are  warm  and  the  sunrise 
like  the  eyes  of  a  little  child  .  .  .  ?  Ah,  how 
often   have    I    seen    the    Signore  in   the    high 


64  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

places,  once  in  the  Plain  of  the  Lilies  and  once 
under  the  Cross  of  Baldassare  .  .  .  reading 
reading,  always  reading.  Sometimes  I  followed 
him  a  long  way  off,  lest  harm  should  come. 
Am  I  not  President  of  the  Mountain  ?  " 

"  So  you  know  all  the  paths  on  the 
Mountain  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Who  knows  them  if  not  I.'*  Even  the 
monks,  whom  the  Duke  sent  away  to  please  the 
Austrians,  did  not  know  the  Mountain  as  I  do." 
He  laughed  softly  to  himself. 

"Well,"  I  said,  laughing  too,  "we  will  see." 

There  was  silence.  The  little  stream  ran 
sweetly  on  its  way,  the  wind  stirred  softly 
among  the  parched  leaves.  Suddenly,  close  at 
hand,  the  cicala  began  again  its  endless  song. 

"  The  Signore  hears  ?  It  is  the  song  of  the 
cicala.'" 

"Tell  me  now,"  said  I,  "why  the  Saints 
cannot  escape  the  complaint  of  the  barren 
woman  ?  " 

"  Signoria,  who  may  escape  it  ?  Ah,  certainly 
not  the  Saints.  Will  the  Signore  hear  a  tale, 
a  little  tale,  an  old  little  tale  of  a  grand- 
moth  er.f*" 

"Tell  me." 

"  There    was    a    barren    woman    who    said 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN  65 

always,  kneeling  to  Maria  Santissima :  '  Is  it 
truly  then  my  destiny  that  I  should  not  have 
children  ?  But  make  me  then  the  Grace, 
Madonna  mia  .  .  .  make  me  then  to  become 
a  mother.'  Signore,  her  prayer  was  heard,  so 
that  a  little  later  she  brought  forth — a  cicala. 
.  .  .  After  a  time  she  picked  it  up  from  the 
earth,  and  holding  it  between  the  palms  of  her 
hands,  and  looking  at  it  half-crazy,  half-stupefied, 
she  exclaimed  at  last :  '  What  should  I  do  with 
this  ? '  and  she  flung  it  under  the  bed. 

"  One  day  she  had  to  carry  the  food  to  her 
husband  on  the  Mountain,  for  he  was  a 
charcoal  burner ;  but  she  did  not  wish  to  go. 
It  was  not  that  her  burden  was  heavy,  for  she 
took  an  ass  to  carry  the  knapsack.  No,  she 
had  only  to  guide  the  ass.  Nevertheless  con- 
tinually she  told  herself,  '  Ah,  if  only  I  had  a 
son  he  would  spare  me  this  fatigue.'  Suddenly 
she  heard  a  subtle,  low  voice  from  under  the 
bed :  *  Mother,  it  is  I  who  will  go  with  the 
ass.'  And  out  came  the  little  cicala  jumping 
like  a  grasshopper.  '  We  shall  see  what  you 
can  do,'  his  mother  replied.  Then  she  placed 
the  knapsack  on  the  crupper,  the  cicala  gave  a 
jump  and  entered  into  the  ass's  ear,  and  off  they 
went. 
5 


66  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

"The  Signore  may  believe  me  that  whoever 
met  the  ass  that  day,  seeing  him  alone  without 
a  rider,  beat  him,  as  people  will,  not  knowing 
what  to  think.     And  always  the  cicala  cried — 

'"Tocca,  tocca  I'asino 
Sta  qua  I'accetterella.' 

And  hearing  that  voice  and  seeing  no  one, 
all  left  the  ass  in  peace.  At  last,  and  finally, 
they  found  the  padrone  in  the  woods  ;  and  the 
cicala  came  out  of  his  nest  in  the  ear  of  the  ass 
and  said,  as  loud  as  he  might,  *  Mother  could 
not  come,  so  I  am  come,  I  ! '  And  the  charcoal 
burner  heard  that  voice  and  saw  no  one.  Then 
said  he  in  his  heart,  *  Yes,  yes,  I  understand, 
they  have  made  me  horns.'  And  so,  Signoria, 
to  this  day,  when  one  hears  that  dry  evil  voice 
in  the  woods  .  .  ." 

It  was  sunset.  After  a  time  I  said  to 
Giovanni :  *'  Let  us  go  through  the  woods  for 
a  little  and  find  the  wind."  And  he  led  me  by 
the  paths  he  knew.  Beneath  us,  but  not  far 
away,  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore  stood  up  sharp 
and  marvellously  clear  against  the  fantastic 
rock  of  Radicofani.  From  the  Badia  and  from 
S.  Croce  came  the  sound  of  the  Angelus  across 
the   golden  fields.     Then    there    was   silence. 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN  67 

In  the  woods  it  was  already  twilight,  only 
sometimes  from  far  away  came  the  call  of  some 
night  owl,  the  whistle  of  the  night  cecca  through 
the  still  leaves.  Presently  we  came  to  a  little 
clearing  to  the  south  of  the  village,  and  crossing 
it,  passing  through  a  belt  of  trees,  after  a 
moment  came  out  on  the  bare  hillside  under 
the  stars. 

The  whole  world  seen  from  thence  seemed 
to  be  lost  in  a  soft  veil  of  blue  spangled  with  gold. 
Far  and  far  away  across  the  Umbrian  hills,  like 
a  horn  of  pallid  gold,  like  a  silver  sickle  for 
some  precious  harvest,  the  moon  hung  over 
the  world,  that  in  her  light  gradually  became 
visible  ever  so  faintly,  as  though  seen  through 
some  impalpable  but  lovely  veil.  Before  us 
lay  the  whole  breadth  of  the  Patrimony.  To 
the  right  on  the  hills,  like  the  nest  of  an  eagle, 
Castellazzara  hung  above  the  precipices  of 
Monte  Civitella.  Dimly  in  the  lonely  obscurity 
of  evening  S.  Casciano  rose  behind  Celle  on 
the  sides  of  Monte  Cetona.  Somewhere  lost 
in  the  valleys  Proceno  hid  herself  among  the 
vines,  Acquapendente  behind  her  fantastic 
rocks.  They  were  rather  felt  than  seen,  only 
far  away  Lago  di  Bolsena  shone  like  a  jewel, 
Monte  Cimino  rose  like  a  ghost  beside  Monte 


68  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Venere,  eternally  separated  by  the  faint  line  of 
hills  like  a  bow,  against  which  Montefiascone 
rose  like  a  lovely  thought  in  the  unbreakable 
silence.  And  beyond  lay  the  desert  of  the 
Campagna  and  that  immortal  thing  which  it 
has  brought  forth. 

Suddenly  in  heaven  a  star  burst  like  a 
blossom,  and  fell  across  the  universe  in  a  noose 
of  light.  Giovanni's  hand  trembled  on  my 
shoulder.  But  the  silence  could  not  be 
broken. 

And  still  the  heat  lay  on  the  world  like  a 
woman  thirsty  for  kisses.  One  night,  because 
sleep  would  not  come  to  me,  I  left  my  bed  and 
went  out  into  the  woods.  It  was  but  a  little 
way.  From  my  window  I  could  see  down  the 
aisles  of  the  forest.  I  could  hear  the  whisper  of 
a  million  leaves  as  the  wind  passed  slowly, 
softly  by ;  I  could  hear  the  flight  of  a  wood- 
pigeon  and  the  chattering  of  the  squirrels. 
But  that  night  there  was  only  silence. 

It  was  some  two  hours  before  dawn.  A 
profound  change  seemed  to  have  come  upon 
the  Mountain  since  sunset.  Everything  was 
hushed.  It  was  not  the  usual  propitious  silence 
of  night  that  surrounded  me,  full   of  innumer- 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN  69 

able,  unheeded  voices,  but  an  absolute  stillness 
as  though  the  whole  world  were  holding  its 
breath.  I  stooped  to  the  flowers,  and  found 
their  heads  were  laid  to  the  earth  as  though 
listening  in  fear,  in  expectation,  of  some  ap- 
proaching danger,  and  though  the  silence  was 
so  absolute  nothing  was  asleep.  The  corn  was 
all  fallen  one  way,  a  sea  of  purple  and  gold  ;  in 
the  woods  the  chestnut  trees  seemed  waiting 
as  though  for  some  word  of  revelation ;  now 
and  then  they  lifted  their  leaves  stealthily, 
without  a  sound,  over  the  little  streams  which 
slunk  swiftly,  noiselessly  on  their  way.  What 
was  it  they  awaited  with  the  flowers  and  the 
corn,  as  though  in  fear  and  certainly  without 
joy  ?     Was  it  the  dawn  ? 

It  broke  over  Cetona,  at  first  like  the  smile 
of  a  ghost,  mirthless  and  without  gladness — a 
long,  pallid  line  of  golden  foam  upon  a  sultry 
cloud.  Then  it  quickened  into  a  burning  pain  ; 
a  languid  and  unutterable  agony,  unable  to  ex- 
press itself,  seemed  to  possess  the  helpless  day. 
Faintly,  faintly  the  light  struggled  into  the  world, 
which  lay  hidden  under  immense  shadows. 
The  whole  east  gaped  wider  and  wider,  as 
though  in  an  agony  of  articulation.  Across  the 
sky  started  great  lines  of  burning  red,  as  though 


^o  LN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

in  some  intolerable  pain.  Then,  like  some  new, 
marvellous,  and  splendid  beauty,  profoundly 
tragic  and  without  joy,  the  sun  rose  over  the 
mountains  and  saw  the  beauty  and  weariness 
of  the  world. 

It  was  in  that  hour,  perhaps,  that  I  understood 
for  the  first  time  that  the  dawn  is  sadder  far 
than  the  sunset,  even  as  birth  is  more  tragic 
than  death. 

At  last  the  rain,  the  rain!  It  began  at 
evening.  Till  noon  the  world  was  still  lost  in 
that  strange  silence.  In  the  Badia  the  people 
knelt  in  languid  groups  before  the  Crucifix. 
Some  had  deserted  even  that,  and  were  prostrate 
before  the  Relic  of  S.  Marco ;  others  bore 
lighted  tapers,  like  tiny  stars,  to  Madonna,  who 
smiled  and  smiled,  holding  out  her  hands. 
And  suddenly,  without  a  warning  of  any  sort,  an 
immense  boom  of  thunder  broke  the  silence, 
and  they  forgot  their  prayers.  Presently  on 
the  Cima  the  clouds  gathered,  the  wind  drove 
over  the  woods,  the  fields  were  a  tossing  sea  of 
gold,  the  very  dust  rose  up,  and  in  a  hideous 
dance,  as  of  the  thirsty  dead,  swirled  and  swayed 
and  drove  away  the  living.  And  out  of  the 
wind,    as    it    were,    came    the    bells,    clanging, 


I 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN   7 1 

clashing,  hurtling  all  together,  wild  with  joy, 
supplication,  importunate  noise,  and  thanks- 
giving. For  at  the  first  sign  of  a  cloud  the 
people  ran  to  the  belfries  and  cheered  on  the 
ringers,  till  the  thunder  itself  was  but  a  tempor- 
ary accompaniment  to  the  brazen  tongues  that 
seemed  to  demand  of  Heaven  what  it  had  been 
so  reluctant  to  grant,  the  sweetness,  the  refresh- 
ment, the  coolness,  the  mercy  of  the  rain  which 
would  redeem  the  world  from  the  terror  of  the  sun. 

On  the  next  morning  the  Mountain  seemed 
to  have  awakened  to  a  new  life.  The  very 
world,  that  immense  and  beautiful  world  which 
it  broods  over,  appeared  to  have  run  to  it,  as  it 
were,  with  gifts — the  gift  of  its  own  beauty. 
Hills  and  valleys,  little  cities  too,  that  had  till 
then,  almost  all  the  summer  long,  hidden 
themselves  in  the  heat,  suddenly  were  found 
round  about  her :  Trasimeno  seemed  but  a 
mile  or  two  under  the  woods  ;  Bolsena  just  a 
beautiful  thing  to  be  won  to  between  morning 
and  midday  ;  and  beyond  and  beyond  .  .  .  ? 
Who  could  tell  what  might  not  be  seen  high 
up  on  the  hillside  ;  Arezzo  perhaps,  certainly 
Cortona.  And  southward  might  one  hope — 
ah  ! — for  Rome  ? 


72  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

It  was   already    afternoon    when    Giovanni 
came  for  me,  and  when  we  set  out  it  was  not 
alone,  for  Suor  Angelina — and  she  was  in  some 
sort  my  landlady — came  with    us.     A  strange 
and  beautiful  nature,  for  Sister  x'\ngelina,  as  it 
is  the  custom  in   the  Mountain    to  call  one's 
friends  if  they  be  women,  simple  of  heart  as 
she  was,  was  in  some  sort  an  heiress,  having 
inherited  a  vast  number  of  chestnuts  and  the 
ground  they  grew  on  from   her   cousin,   who, 
pious  man  that  he  was,  dying  about  the  time  of 
the  foundation  of  United  Italy,  and  seeing  the 
robbery  that  led  to,  left  all   he  had,  and  that 
was  no  little  thing,  to  her,  and  after  her  if  she 
died  childless  to  the  Monks  of  Settignano,  those 
Olivetani    there  whom    the  people   call   Frati. 
The  poor  woman,  keen  as  all  Italians  are  at  a 
bargain,  saw  her  goods  daily  slipping  from  her, 
for  she  had  never  married.     Not  without  tears, 
though  indeed  she  was  one  of  the  most  joyous 
of  good  women,  she  thought  upon  this  thing ; 
and  for  this,  if  for  no  other  cause,   her   great 
friend  had  come  to  be  Ser  Giovanni,  President 
of  the  Mountain,   the  head,  as   I  found,  of  the 
league    which    the    people    round    about    had 
formed  when,  seeing  the  German  Mining  Com- 
pany— worse  than   any  Signorotti — buying  up 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN  73 

all  their  property  "  for  nothing,"  they  had  sworn 
to  sell  no  more.  Suor  Angelina  was  a  woman 
of  some  three  and  sixty  years,  and  of  these 
she  boasted  as  though  she  had  used  them  well. 

"Thursday  next,"  she  told  me  as  we  went 
on  our  way, — "Thursday  next,  as  the  Signoria 
knows,  is  the  Festa  of  the  Assumption  of  Maria 
Santissima.  There  will  be  a  procession — yes, 
in  spite  of  the  strike  ;  the  priest  told  me  so  this 
morning  in  the  Piazza.  Sixty-three  years  old 
I  am,  and  sixty-four  times  have  I  followed  in 
these  processions ;  for  the  first  time  I  went 
my  mother  bore  me  yet  in  her  body,  and  that 
day  was  I  born.  And  Ser  Giovanni  knows 
well  I  speak  truth.  Is  it  not  so,  Vanni  ?  Now, 
whether  it  was  the  excitement  of  that  blessed 
Festa,  or  whether  the  heat  of  the  sun,  for  it 
was  very  hot,  I  cannot  say,  but  when  she 
returned  home  in  that  hour  I  was  born, 
and  therefore  I  am  named  Maria  Assunta 
Angelina." 

"  But  where  are  we  oroino-  ? "  I  asked. 

We  had  left  the  highway  to  Podere  Zaccaria, 
and  taking  to  the  woods  on  our  left  had 
followed  a  path  past  the  outskirts  of  the  mines, 
climbing  ever  round  the  Mountain  towards 
Siena. 


74  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

"  Where  are  we  going,  Vanni  ?  Has  the 
Signore  seen  Baldassare's  Cross  ?  No  ?  Then 
assuredly  that  is  our  way."  And  we  followed 
as  she  said,  in  the  wake  of  her  talk. 

"  Listen,  Signore,  there  was  a  man — do  I  not 
speak  truth,  Ser  Giovanni  ? — Dio  Mio,  we  shall 
never  see  his  like.  Whether  it  were  sickness 
or  grief,  devil  or  such,  Baldassare  was  better  than 
any  priest  in  Tuscany.  Signore,  he  was  a  saint, 
and  to  think  he  died  before  I  could  walk." 

"And  who  was  he,  then.-^"  I  ventured. 

"Signore,  he  was  a  saint.  Do  not  ask  me 
where  he  was  born  :  who  knows  where  he  was 
born  ?  Do  you  know,  Ser  Giovanni,  you  who 
think  you  know  everything  ?  Ah,  Signore,  he 
does  not  know.  Perhaps  he  was  born  in  the 
Island — perhaps  in  the  Mountain.  Chi  lo  saf 
But  if  you  were  sick  he  had  but  to  touch  your 
forehead  with  his  lips  and  you  were  whole ; 
if  you  were  in  grief  he  but  looked  upon  you 
and  you  were  happy ;  if  some  devil  lurked  in 
your  house,  he  but  marked  the  threshold  with 
a  cross  of  his  spittle  and  it  was  gone.  Thus 
he  went  through  Tuscany.  Signore,  you  know 
the  cross  above  Vincigliata,  you  know  the  cross 
above  Settignano,  you  know  the  cross  on  the 
way  to  Compiobbi,  where  the  river  winds  so 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN   75 

suddenly  in  Val  d'Arno  ?  Well,  it  was  he  who 
set  them  there.  He  bore  them  on  his  back, 
these  and  a  hundred  more  that  neither  you  nor 
I  will  ever  see,  and  he  set  them  up  for  the 
love  of  Gesu  Cristo,  and  in  the  sand  beneath 
them  he  wrote  with  his  finger  the  name  of 
Maria  Santissima.  Such  was  Baldassare,  that 
holy  one.  And  to  think  he  died  when  I  was 
a  little  maid !  Nevertheless,  I  too  saw  him — 
I.  I  lay  in  his  arms,  on  his  breast,  next  his 
heart,  and  he  gave  me  water  from  some  secret 
spring  and  healed  me." 

She  was  silent  a  moment,  thinking.  In  the 
woods  far  away,  in  the  silent  afternoon,  the 
strokes  of  an  axe  came  to  us  rhythmically, 
musically,  through  the  trees. 

**  Signore,  it  was  my  mother  who  took  me 
to  him  ;  neither  could  my  cousin,  that  Abbate 
of  whom  we  have  spoken,  dissuade  her.  And 
we  met  him  one  day  in  the  woods — I  was  not 
three  years  old  then — and  seeing  me  ailing  he 
took  me  in  his  arms  and  kissed  me,  and  gave 
me  to  drink  of  the  water  he  carried  in  the 
bottle  covered  with  wicker  which  he  ever  took 
along  with  him ;  and  in  a  moment  I  was  quite 
well.  And  if  the  Signore  will  believe,  never 
have  I  known  illness  since  then." 


ye  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

After  a  moment  I  said  to  her :  "  Baldassare 
of  whom  you  speak  I  know  not,  but  Lazzaretti, 
Lazzaretti  of  Arcidosso,  was  it  not  so  he  too 
healed  the  folk  of  the  Mountain  ? " 

"  Lazzaretti !  "  A  loud  laugh  from  Giovanni, 
stalking  along  before  us,  reached  me — *'  Laz- 
zaretti ! " 

"The  Signore  is  indeed  deceived,  Ser 
Giovanni,  if  he  thinks  that  pig  of  Arcidosso 
may  be  named  beside  Baldassare," 

Ser  Giovanni  turned  and  confronted  us,  for, 
like  all  Italians  he  too  would  not  walk  and  talk. 

"  Signoria,  I  knew  him,  that  little  poor  one 
of  Arcidosso.  Signoria,  the  air  of  the  Maremma 
was  in  his  brain.  When  the  cholera  came  to 
the  Mountain,  they  of  Arcidosso  died  as  the 
beasts  die,  because  they  look  all  day  on 
Maremma ;  but  we,  we  were  well.  And  that 
David  whom  the  carabinieri  shot,  he  too  had 
looked  too  long  on  Maremma." 

"  I  also  knew  him — I,"  said  Suor  Angelina. 
"  Only  a  month  ago  I  spoke  with  his  old 
mother.  Who  knows  what  has  become  of 
his  children  ?  They  are  fled  away  for  shame. 
No,  no,  Signore,  he  was  not  like  Baldassare. 
Miracles !  Dio  Mio,  he  contrived  more  miracles 
than  San  Francesco.     He  lived  by  miracles." 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN   77 

"  Such  as  that  famous  one  of  the  barroccaio,  of 
which  the  Signore  has  heard  doubtless,"  said 
Ser  Giovanni. 

The  Signore  had  not  heard. 

"Tell  the  Signore  then,  Ser  Giovanni," 
said  Suor  Angelina,  and  suddenly  became 
silent. 

"It  befell  in  spring,  Signoria,  as  many 
wonderful  things  contrive  to  do,  and  it 
happened  that  about  that  time  David,  called 
the  Saint — ha  !  ha ! — had  begun  to  preach  in 
the  villages  and  to  prophesy — not  happily,  the 
Signore  may  believe  me.  When  he  spoke  of 
rain  the  clouds  flew  away,  the  tramontana 
blew  terribly ;  when  he  spoke  of  frost,  the  sun 
broke  the  earth  into  dust ;  when  he  spoke  of 
heat,  men  died  in  a  single  night  on  the  Cima 
from  cold.  From  the  first  the  Saints  dis- 
approved of  him.  But  he  was  of  Arcidosso ; 
who  may  abide  the  men  of  that  village  !  " 

"Or  who  shall  keep  them  honest.-*"  asked 
Suor  Angelina,  softly. 

"Well,  well,  as  the  Signore  may  imagine, 
David  called  the  Saint  was  most  unhappy  at 
his  misfortune  :  say  what  he  would  God  made 
it  otherwise.  So  he  took  thought  with  himself ; 
and  knowing  that  alone  in  all  the  Mountain — 


78  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

I  speak  not  of  women,  Signoria — his  brother 
believed  in  him,  and  that  is  a  most  strange 
thing,  he  took  him  aside  one  day  and  said  to 
him :  '  To-morrow  as  thou  goest  with  the 
barroccio  to  Santa  Fiora  and  Pian  Castagnajo, 
on  this  side  of  Seragiolo,  where  the  road 
turns,  overturn  the  darroccio,  break  everything 
in  pieces,  think  not  of  anything  at  all,  nor 
bewail  what  is  done,  I,  David,  will  make  all 
good ;  but  see  thou  fail  me  not.'  And  his 
brother,  who  loved  him,  answered,  *  Even  so, 
David.' 

"Now  David  was  preaching  the  day  following 
at  Castel  del  Piano  yonder,  and,  as  it  is  said, 
that  day  he  spoke  better  than  he  was  used, 
when  suddenly,  in  the  heat  of  the  sermon,  he 
stopped  dead,  struck  his  forehead  with  his 
hands,  and  piped  out !  '  Ohime  !  Ohime  ! — what 
is  this  that  is  come  to  pass  ?  Alas  !  alas !  the 
misfortune,  the  misfortune  ! '  And  later,  when 
the  women  had  calmed  him,  he  explained  very 
sorrowfully  that  a  terrible  thing  had  befallen, 
that  evil  had  come  to  his  brother,  there  on 
the  Mountain,  and  that  he  had  lost  all  that 
was  his.  And  it  proved  to  be  even  as  he  said. 
Thus  and  thus  David,  called  the  Saint,  began 
to  serve  God." 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN   79 

"Was  he  not  of  Arcidosso?"  asked  Suor 
Angelina  sweedy. 

"So  David  was  a  fraud  after  all,"  I  said  to 
Giovanni.     "Well,  I  am  sorry." 

"Who  knows,  Signore?  He  began  badly, 
that  is  true,  but  later,  ah !  maybe  God  spoke  to 
him.  He  said  things  so  wonderful  that  the 
carabinieri  shot  him,  and  they  were  not  evil 
things." 

We  had  come  out  of  the  woods  on  to  the 
hillside.  Behind  us,  in  a  wilderness  of  enor- 
mous stones,  grew  the  greatest  chestnuts  of 
the  forest,  while  under  the  cliffs  that  from 
this  shoulder  of  the  Mountain  towered  some 
hundreds  of  feet  sheer  into  the  air,  a  little 
spring,  Fonte  del  Papa,  reminding  me  by  its 
name,  perhaps,  of  the  advent  of  Pio  11.,  bubbled 
miraculously  from  a  fissure  in  the  stone.  As 
we  continued  on  our  way,  ever  mounting, 
we  came  at  last  on  to  the  bare  upland,  that 
like  a  great  buttress  of  the  Mountain  seemed 
to  support  the  Cima  itself  on  its  enormous 
shoulder ;  and  there  on  the  summit,  thrust  into 
a  heap  of  stones,  stood  an  old  cross  of  chestnut 
wood,  broken  now  and  disfigured  by  many 
winters,  looking  over  Italy.  And  indeed  in 
that  clear  air  after  the  rain  it  was  no  small  part 


8o  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

of  Italy  that  lay  before  our  eyes.  On  the  left, 
to  the  north,  Pienza  rose  on  her  hill,  and  close 
beside  her  Montepulciano.  Almost  at  their 
feet  lay  Trasimeno,  and  beyond,  Castiglione 
Fiorentino,  and  Cortona;  while  on  the  hither 
side  of  the  lake  stood  Castiglione  del  Lago,  on 
the  farther  side  Passignano  and  Magione.  Like 
a  pale  rose  in  a  cup  Perugia  lay  among  the 
mountains,  behind  her  rose  the  great  peaks  of 
the  central  Appenines  beyond  Gubbio.  To 
the  south-west  rose  the  mountains  of  Norcia, 
and  before  them  the  beautiful  valley  of  Spoleto. 
Farther  south  the  Monti  Sibillini  shone 
against  the  sky,  and  farther  still  the  Gran  Sasso 
d'ltalia  white  with  eternal  snows.  Then  to 
the  extreme  south  I  looked  for  Rome,  but 
instead  found  only  the  outposts  of  the 
Campagna,  Monte  Soracte  like  a  carved 
casket,  and  ever  the  most  beautiful  of  all  the 
mountains  of  Italy,  Monte  Cimino,  and  Monte 
Venere  the  gateway  to  Rome.  After  a  long 
time  Suor  Angelina  said  softly,  "It  is  good  to 
be  here,  let  us  await  the  sunset." 

So  we  waited  there  in  silence  for  the  end  of 
another  day. 

One  day  about  a  week  later  I  had  walked 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN   8 1 

over  to  Santa  Fiora  in  the  early  morning,  and 
returning  at  evening  by  the  great  road  which 
girdles  the  whole  Mountain  I  was  surprised 
by  sunset  before  I  was  half-way  to  Pian 
Castagnajo.  Presently,  as  I  reached  the  top 
of  the  pass  by  la  Pianaccia,  the  whole  world 
was  lost  in  the  glory  of  the  hour  after  the 
setting  of  the  sun,  the  hour  that,  here  in  the 
South,  is  the  most  beautiful  moment  of  the  day. 
The  whole  country  in  that  soft,  clear,  golden 
light  seemed  blessed ;  the  world  glowed,  and 
seemed  almost  to  give  light  to  the  sky  rather 
than  to  receive  light  from  it.  Something 
fortunate  in  the  hour,  some  gladness  in 
heaven,  I  thought,  must  have  lent  to  the  world 
for  a  moment  a  reflection  of  its  beauty  and  its 
joy,  so  marvellously  clear  and  translucent  was 
the  air,  so  quiet  and  holy  lay  the  earth  in  an 
ecstasy  of  adoration.  Was  it  in  worship  of  the 
moon — the  new  moon,  which  lay  like  a  new 
beautiful  sign  in  heaven  over  the  Mountain — 
that  the  whole  world  had  gathered  to  itself  this 
clarity  and  sweetness,  and  composed  itself  as 
though  it  were  still  indeed  that  Garden  in 
which  the  Voice  of  God  walked  of  old  ? 

Presently,  as  I  went  on  my  way,  I  came  upon 
an  old  man  building  a  great  fire  of  furze  and 


82  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

brushwood,  and,  a  little  lonely  in  the  silence,  I 
stayed  to  speak  with  him. 

"  And  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  the 
fire  ?  "  I  said  after  the  greeting. 

"  I  am  going  to  light  it,  Signore,"  he 
answered,  laughing  slyly.  And  he  took  some 
sulphur  matches  from  his  pocket,  and  choosing 
a  fagforot  of  broom,  in  a  moment  he  set  it 
ablaze  and  thrust  it  into  the  great  heap 
of  brushwood.  A  huge  column  of  smoke 
rose  in  the  air,  and  presently  I  heard  the 
numberless  voices  of  the  fire  talking  together ; 
then  here  and  there  little  flames  darted  out, 
yellow  and  flickering,  eagerly  licking  the  air 
around  the  brushwood.  Then  a  beautiful 
golden  flame  like  a  banner  streamed  from  the 
summit  of  the  pile,  beating  on  the  wind, 
vanishing  and  reappearing ;  a  dangerous, 
lovely,  and  terrible  thing,  the  sword  of  an 
angel. 

"  And  why  are  you  making  a  bonfire  then  ? " 
I  asked.  "  When  I  saw  the  sunset  it  seemed 
to  me  it  must  be  a  Festa  in  heaven.  What 
Festa  is  it  that  you  keep  ? " 

"  Not  in  heaven  alone  do  they  keep  this 
vigil,  but  through  the  earth  and  through  the 
sea  also.     Has  the  Signore  forgotten,  then,  that 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN   83 

it  is  the  Vigil  of  S.  Maria  Assunta  ?  Does  not 
the  whole  universe  rejoice  when  God  meets  His 
.Mother  in  the  midst  of  the  heavens,  and  leads 
Her  to  His  jasper  throne,  and  places  on  Her 
holy  head  the  Crown  of  seven  stars  ?  "  And  he 
pointed  to  where  Corona  hung  in  heaven  over 
the  crescent  moon. 

So  it  was  the  Eve  of  the  Assumption,  and  I 
had  forgotten  !  He  went  on  stir/ing  the  fire, 
the  flames  roaring  above  him,  thrusting  towards 
him  their  marvellous  arms.  Presently,  as  I 
watched  him,  he  pointed  far  away  southward 
across  the  world. 

"  Look!  they  have  not  forgotten." 

Far  and  far  away  in  the  plain  a  fire  shone 
like  a  star  fallen  on  the  earth ;  then  another 
and  another  and  another.  Castellazzara  flamed 
on  the  mountains,  Proceno,  Acquapendente, 
Sforzesca,  Elciola,  Lugherelle,  Paladino  in  the 
plain.  Then  Radicofani  shone  forth,  S. 
Casciano,  and  Celle  ;  Torre  Alfina  in  the 
mountains  lighted  her  beacon,  S.  Lorenzo  in 
the  valley  answered  it ;  every  village  sang 
''Magnificat,"  and  the  hills  answered,  "Salve 
Regina." 

Then,  as  I  went  on  my  way,  I  began  to  count 
the    fires.     Fifty-and-four    shone  in  the  Patri- 


84  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

mony,  seventy-and-two  in  Umbria,  while  in 
Tuscany — that  corner  of  Tuscany  that  I  could 
see — forty-and-seven  rejoiced  for  the  Corona- 
tion of  the  Queen  of  Angels.  One  hundred 
and  seventy-three  fires  I  counted  at  one 
moment  on  my  way ;  nor  were  these  anything 
but  a  fraction  of  those  I  could  not  see.  Indeed, 
it  would  be  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  from 
the  Cima  one  might  have  counted  over  a 
thousand  roses  of  flame  cast  at  the  feet  of 
Madonna  caught  up  to  the  Throne  of  Her 
Son.  And  the  greatest  of  all  was  the  huge 
beacon  lighted  on  Mont'  Amiata. 

Dominating  as  it  does,  not  Southern  Tus- 
cany alone,  but  the  whole  Patrimony  between 
Acquapendente  and  Viterbo,  the  whole  of 
Umbria  from  Trasimeno  to  Spoleto,  Mont' 
Amiata  on  the  Vigil  of  the  Assumption  is  the 
centre  of  a  ring  of  fire  which  reminds  the  world 
of  the  second  birthday  of  Mary  Madonna. 
Nor  is  it  in  the  country-places  alone  that  this 
Feast  is  kept  with  so  much  splendour.  In 
Siena  the  whole  city  is  illuminated,  the 
Mangia  Tower  is  picked  out  with  lights,  a 
beacon  flames  on  the  platform,  and  in  the 
Campo  a  great  display  of  fireworks  is  made. 
For    on    the    day    following    the    Feast, — in 


I 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN   85 

honour  of  Madonna  too,  as  we  shall  do  well 
to  remember — Madonna,  the  feudal  suzerain 
of  Siena,  of  whose  rights  the  City  has  ever 
been  so  jealous, — the  Palio  of  August  is 
run  amid  the  frantic  applause  of  the  whole 
people. 

Moreover,  the  Feast  of  the  Assunta  has 
a  special  significance  in  Mont'  Amiata.  David 
Lazzaretti  speaks  of  L! Assunta  delle  forti 
Alpi,  Madonna,  P Imperatrice  dell'  Amiata  mia, 
and  it  is  as  herself,  the  centre  of  a  contado  not 
material  certainly,  but  religious,  stretching  from 
far  Arezzo  to  Viterbo,  from  the  mountains  of 
Norcia  to  the  sea,  that  Mont'  Amiata,  the  throne 
of  the  Empire  of  Madonna,  has  as  it  were  imposed 
her  own  custom  upon  that  vast  country  over 
which  she  broods.  The  cult  of  the  Assumption 
is  most  ancient  and  widespread  in  all  Italy, 
the  cathedrals  of  Pisa,  Siena,  Prato,  Spoleto, 
and  half  a  hundred  cities  own  Maria  Assunta 
as  their  Titola.  And  in  the  Mountain  her 
name — La  Madonna  dell'  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore, 
La  Madonna  di  Pian  Castagnajo,  La  Madonna 
di  Santa  Fiora,  La  Madonna  di  Arcidosso 
known  through  all  the  Sanese — is  as  much 
more  ancient  than  the  dominion  of  Siena 
as    the    Mountain    is    more    ancient   than    the 


86  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

city,    the    work    of    God    than    the    work    of 
man. 

Very  humble  and  sweet  was  the  procession 
of  the  Festa  on  the  next  day.  Headed  by  the 
Company  of  the  Sacre  Cuore,  the  children, 
some  two  hundred  of  them,  bearing  lighted 
tapers,  following  the  Crucifix  of  the  Society, 
the  Company  of  S.  Marco,  the  men  and  women 
following  the  officers,  among  them  Giovanni 
bearing  aloft  Madonna  Herself,  smiling  and 
opening  her  arms,  and  at  last  the  Priests  in 
their  copes,  chanting  in  chorus,  wound  in  the 
sunlight  down  the  dusty  road  from  the  Abbey, 
through  the  narrow  streets  of  the  Castello  to 
S.  Croce.  There  followed  a  country  Bene- 
diction ;  where,  amid  the  many  tapers,  once 
more  God  was  lifted  up  before  our  eyes  that 
we  might  worship  Him,  and  He  give  us,  as  of 
old,  His  Benediction. 

In  the  evening,  after  sunset,  they  dance 
under  the  chestnuts  in  the  moonlight  to  the 
sound  of  the  mandolines.  Sometimes  a  girl 
will  dance  with  a  girl,  a  man  with  a  man ;  but 
that  is  only  a  beginning  ;  presently  each  claims 
a  partner,  but  without  ceremony,  and  leading 
her  apart,  begins  that  strange,  delightful 
country  dance  which  is  so  graceful,  so  languid, 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN   87 

and  yet  so  full  of  life.  And  amid  the  more 
learned  movements  intrude  even  yet  many  a 
rustic  figure  that  some  do  not  know,  but,  with 
the  good  Latin  patience  and  courtesy,  are  well 
content  to  watch,  sitting  on  the  ground  under 
the  trees,  in  little  groups,  while  here  and  there 
a  lantern  shines,  and  the  whole  piana  is 
flooded  by  the  moonlight  streaming  through 
the  trees. 

Long  after  I  was  gone  to  bed,  half  asleep, 
half  awake,  I  heard  the  strange,  far-off  sweetness 
of  the  mandolines,  and  through  my  dreams,  in 
an  endless  vista  of  trees,  I  saw  them  pass  and 
repass  in  that  strange  rhythmic  dance,  laughing 
together  in  praise  of  Madonna. 

It  was  about  two  o'clock  on  a  hot  afternoon 
some  days  later  that,  amid  a  joyous  company 
mounted  on  asses,  men  and  women  alike  riding 
astride  in  the  fashion  of  the  Mountain,  I  set 
out  for  the  summit  of  Mont'  Amiata  to  see  the 
sunset.  For  myself,  though  all  were  mounted 
I  went  afoot,  always  a  little  way  before  them, 
while  as  we  climbed  through  the  heat  by  the 
winding  path  in  the  shadow  of  the  woods  their 
voices  continually  came  to  me,  up  many  a  forest 
glade,  their  laughter,  the  gay  shouting  of  the 


88  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

muleteers,  their  strange,  long-drawn-out  cries 
to  their  beasts,  as  in  some  story  by  a  four- 
teenth-century novelist  of  an  adventure  on 
the  Mountain. 

The  way  to  the  Cima,  which  stands  some 
5700  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  passes 
first  the  Church  of  the  Madonna,  and  then,  turn- 
ing suddenly  to  the  left,  across  the  entrance  to 
the  mines,  climbs  at  once  into  the  chestnut 
woods,  and,  always  ascending  on  its  way,  soon 
comes  out  into  beech  woods,  into  a  forest  of 
oak,  and  at  last  into  mere  oak  scrub,  with  here 
and  there  a  gigantic  tree  casting  its  shadow 
over  the  way,  till  after  some  three  hours  of 
climbing  it  crosses  a  beautiful  plana  under 
the  cone  of  the  Mountain,  and  mounting  by  a 
sort  of  staircase  leads  you  at  last  to  the  bare 
summit,  a  huge  pile  of  enormous  stones,  from 
which,  as  from  the  eyrie  of  an  eagle,  the  whole 
world  seems  to  lie  at  your  feet,  standing  as 
you  are  on  the  highest  ground  in  Tuscany. 
The  view,  which  is  both  wide  and  beautiful, 
embraces  the  whole  Mountain.  To  the  west 
lies  the  sea,  with  the  islands  of  Corsica,  Elba, 
and  Monte  Cristo ;  while  between  it  and  the 
Mountain  lies  the  purple  and  blue  Maremma. 
To  the  north   Siena  stands  on  her  hill,  and  all 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN   89 

between  lies  the  tawny,  burnt  plain  ;  and  beyond, 
the  mountains  open  suddenly,  giving  you  a 
glimpse,  but  only  a  glimpse,  of  Val  d'Arno. 
To  the  east  lie  the  mountains  of  the  Casentino, 
and  the  valleys  of  Umbria,  and  the  hills  over 
the  valleys ;  and  there  Lago  Trasimeno  shines, 
and  the  lake  of  Montepulciano,  and  half  a 
hundred  cities,  from  Cortona  and  Perugia  to 
Assisi  and  Orvieto ;  while  behind,  rise  the 
mountains  above  Gubbio,  the  great  snowy 
peaks  above  Norcia,  the  heights  of  the  Gran 
Sasso  d'ltalia.  And  yet  in  spite  of  the  splen- 
dour and  breadth  of  the  world  to  the  north,  to 
the  east,  to  the  west,  it  was  southward  I  looked 
longest  and  most  often,  for  there  beyond 
the  desert,  over  the  farthest  beautiful  hills, 
stood  tSoracte  like  a  carved  pyramid,  and 
behind  her  the  Campagna  as  I  knew,  and  in 
the  Campagna  Rome.  Should  I  not  see  her, 
after  all,  in  the  clearness  of  evening,  when 
the  dazzlincr  sun  had  been  drowned  in  the 
sea? 

Later,  when  supper  had  been  spread  at  the 
mouth  of  a  great  cave  carved  with  the  initials, 
as  it  is  said,  of  Carlo  Magno,  who  stood  here 
to  see  his  kingdom,  that  gay  company,  return- 
ing  at    random    from    their    explorations,    the 


90  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

bonfire  was  lighted  as  on  the  Vigil  of  the 
Assumption,  and,  the  meal  ended,  we  wandered 
away  as  we  would  to  watch  the  sunset.  Pre- 
sently I  found  myself  alone  on  the  great  stones 
of  the  Cima.  An  immense  silence  full  of 
sadness  had  fallen  on  the  world,  the  Mountain 
was  lost  in  a  dome  of  rosy  fire  which  reached 
almost  to  the  horizon,  where,  all  round,  ran  a 
line  of  pallid  gold  :  only  in  the  west,  like  the 
very  Host,  the  Sun,  shrouded  in  a  golden  mist, 
hung  in  heaven  over  the  mystery  of  the  sea. 
It  was  as  though  the  earth  itself  were  about  to 
be  confounded  with  its  God.  Slowly  the  light 
changed.  It  was  the  moment  of  benediction. 
Great  tongues  of  flame  stole  into  the  firmament, 
the  hills  took  fire  from  the  splendour  of  the  sky, 
across  the  world  lay  the  shadow  of  the  Moun- 
tain, the  east  was  like  a  smoking  censer. 
Again  the  light  changed,  above  the  globe  of 
the  Sun  rose  a  cross  of  pure  gold  that  stood 
over  the  world  out  of  the  heaving  waters,  and 
above  the  cross  great  bands  of  purple  bound 
the  sky,  passing  into  gold  again,  and  then 
into  green  and  then  into  silver,  but  at  last 
into  the  pure,  unsullied  blue  of  the  domed 
heaven. 

In  the  swift  flying  moments,  as  of  the  pro- 


IN  THE  FOREST  AND  ON  THE  MOUNTAIN  9 1 

found  silence,  in  my  heart  I  seemed  to  hear  the 
ancient  words — 

"Tantum  ergo  Sacramentum 
Veneremur  cernui 
Et  antiquum  documentum 
Novo  cedat  ritui." 

It  was  already  twilight  when,  all  on  foot,  we 
turned  again  on  our  way — ah !  for  the  last 
time — to  Abbadia  San  Salvatore. 


VII 

TO  RADICOFANI 

T  T  was  one  of  the  last  mornings  of  August 
-■-  when  I  set  out  for  Radicofani.  I  went 
by  the  old  mediaeval  road,  the  way  of  the 
mules,  not  out  of  Porta  Mulina  as  it  happened, 
but  following  the  great  road  past  the  Castello, 
I  took  the  first  byway  on  the  left  after  crossing 
the  torrent  by  the  Church  of  Madonna  delle 
Rimedie.  By  this  rough  and  stony  way  one 
may  reach  Radicofani  in  some  two  hours  and 
more  of  hard  walking.  The  road  leads,  at 
first  steeply,  down  the  bare  shoulders  of  the 
Mountain,  after  a  time  winding  among  the 
poor  vines  of  the  upper  Paglia  valley,  and  at 
last  to  the  dry  river-bed  itself  And  it  is  just 
there,  at  a  ruinous  place  without  habitation 
called  Pietre-Grosse,  that,  as  I  think,  the  lost 
and  almost  forgotten  town  of  Callimala  once 
stood  on  the  old  Via  Francigena  that  now 
passes — as    it    has    done,    indeed,    for    many 


TO  RADICOFANI  93 

centuries — high  up  under  Radicofani  on  the 
way  to  Rome.  For  originally,  as  I  have  said 
already,  that  way  to  Rome  did  not  pass 
through  Radicofani,  but  through  the  Borgo  of 
Callemala  or  Callimala,  which  Repetti  tells  us 
was  on  the  slope  of  the  mountain  of  Radicofani 
on  the  banks  of  the  Paglia.  Pietre-Grosse 
might  seem  to  be  the  very  place.  The  old 
road  was  destroyed  by  order  of  the  Commune 
of  Siena  in  1442,  and  the  new  road  then  built 
ran  through  Radicofani  in  order  to  prevent 
more  easily  the  entrance  of  condottieri  from  the 
Papal  States,  For,  as  Ghino  di  Tacco  had  found 
in  his  day,  so  they  found  in  theirs,  the  gorge 
of  the  Paglia  was  a  fine  secret  place  in  which  to 
assemble  and  to  hold  the  road  into  Tuscany. 

Little  is  known  of  Callimala,  though  we 
have  a  record  of  its  Church  of  S.  Cristina  as 
early  as  the  tenth  century.  And  in  1300,  on 
April  21,  we  hear  of  it  again  in  the  Carte 
Diplomatiche  della  Badia  di  S.  Salvatore,  where 
Professor  Zdekauer  tells  us,  "  Divers  persons 
of  Radicofani  and  of  Castello  della  Badia 
promised  Fra  Giovanni  of  the  Monastery  of 
S.  Salvatore  di  stare  lunga  la  strada  pttbblica 
a  vendere  il  vino  .  .  .  that  is  to  say,  to  erect 
booths  along  the  highway  in    the    neighbour- 


94  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

hood  of  Callimala  to  sell  wine  and  other 
victuals  to  the  passers-by,"  perhaps,  as  we 
may  think,  on  the  occasion  of  the  Easter 
Festa  or  the  Pilgrimages  of  Holy  Week. 

Almost  nothinor  more  seems  to  be  known 
of  this  lost  city,  which  has  now  utterly  dis- 
appeared, and  indeed,  unless,  as  I  think,  the 
stones  of  Pietre-Grosse  may  be  taken  for  its 
ruins,  no  vestige  of  it  remains  at  all. 

Leaving  this  lonely  and  desolate  place,  I 
climbed  again  into  the  wind — for  the  tramon- 
tana  was  blowing  lustily — by  the  paved,  steep 
way  to  Radicofani  between  the  spoiled  fields 
on  the  mountain-side,  where  a  few  sheep,  poor 
and  needy,  watched  by  a  little  maid  in  tatters, 
were  feeding.  And  because  the  way  was 
steep,  and  because  the  wind  was  so  splendid, 
it  was  already  eleven  o'clock  when  I  came  to 
the  inn  of  Radicofani,  under  the  fortress  of 
Ghino  di  Tacco. 

Originally  belonging  to  the  monks  of  S. 
Salvatore,  in  1153  Radicofani  was  divided, 
and  half  the  Castello  given  by  the  Abbot  to 
Pope  Eugenius  iii.  and  his  successors,  to- 
gether with  half  the  Corte  and  Borgo  of  Calli- 
mala. Later  the  place  formed  the  last  fortress 
of   the    Patrimony   of   St.    Peter,    or   the   last 


TO  RADICOFANI  95 

fortress  of  the  Sanese,  as  it  happened,  for  both 
possessed  it,  the  one  after  the  other,  during 
many  years.  Finally  it  came  to  Siena,  and 
later  formed  part  of  the  Granducato  of 
Tuscany.  To-day  it  is  a  little  walled  village, 
straggling  round  the  jagged  hill  under  the 
fortress  of  Ghino,  with  three  churches,  a  fine 
clock-tower,  and  many  old  houses  ;  a  beautiful 
palace,  evidently  the  Palazzo  del  Governo,  now 
a  prison,  covered  with  coats  of  arms  ;  while 
without  the  gates  are  a  Capuchin  convent,  a 
pretty  place  enough,  among  trees  too,  now 
secularised ;  and  the  old  Posta,  the  Great 
Duke's  Inn,  where  Richard  Lassels  on  his 
way  to  Rome  in  the  seventeenth  century  tells 
us  he  dined.  "From  Siena,"  he  says,  "we 
went  to  Bon  Convento,  Tornieri,  San  Quirico, 
inconsiderable  places  vpon  the  rode,  and  so  to 
RadicofinOy  a  strong  Castle  vpon  a  high  hill, 
built  by  Desiderius,  King  of  the  Longobards. 
This  is  the  last  place  of  the  Florentin  State, 
but  not  the  least  in  strength.  Dineing  here, 
at  the  Great  Dukes  Inn  at  the  bottom  of  the 
hill,  we  went  to  lodge  at  Acquapendente,  which 
is  some  twelve  miles  off,  and  the  first  towne 
of  the  Popes  state." 

Of  the  three  churches  within    the  walls,   S. 


96  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Antonio,  beside  S.   Pietro,  in  the  little  Piazza 
sopra  Mura,   looking  towards   Rome,  contains 
nothing ;    but  as  though    to  make  up    for  the 
emptiness  of  his  brother,  S.  Pietro  has  a  wealth 
of  beautiful    things,    the    work    of    the    della 
Robbia,    whom,  as   I    suppose,   the    Sforza   of 
Santa  Fiora  brought  here,  when,  as  their  arms 
over  the  Palazzo  del  Governo  go  to  show,  they 
ruled  in   the    place.     Entering   the  church  by 
the  western  door,  over  the  first   altar   to    the 
right  is  a  statue  of  S.   Catherine,  made  of  that 
humble   terra -cotta    we    know   so    well,    and 
enamelled  simply  white,  a  touching  and  lovely 
piece  of  work  one  is  surprised  to  find  in  this 
lonely   place.     But   then,  since  all  the   guide- 
books have  ignored  Radicofani,  as  they  have 
ignored    Mont'    Amiata,    one    expects   to    find 
nothing   there,   whereas    both    Radicofani  and 
Santa  Fiora  are  as  rich  in  della  Robbia  ware 
as  any  city  in  Tuscany,  save  Florence.     Here 
in    S.     Pietro,    opposite    that     statue    of     S. 
Catherine,  on   the  first   altar  to  the    left   is  a 
lovely    altar-piece    of    blue    and    white,    with 
Madonna  in  the  midst,  with  S.  John   Baptist 
on  one  side,  and  S.  Antonio  Abbate,  with  his 
pig,    on    the    other.      In  the   right  transept   is 
another  splendid  altar-piece  of  the  Crucifixion 


TO  RADICOFANI  97 

with  S.  Mary  Magdalen  kneeling  at  the  foot 
of  the  Cross ;  and  in  the  left  transept  yet 
another,  Madonna  in  the  midst  with  S. 
Catherine  of  Alexandria  and  S.  Michael 
Archangel.  In  the  little  Church  of  S.  Agata, 
in  the  main  street  of  Radicofani,  we  find  their 
work  again,  in  the  great  altar-piece  behind  the 
high  altar,  of  Madonna  between  S.  Francesco, 
S.  Agata,  S.  Lorenzo,  and  S.  Catherine.  On 
the  left  wall  of  the  nave,  high  up  in  a  little 
cupboard,  is  hidden  a  curious  and  tiny  model 
in  plaster  of  Radicofani  itself,  with  Madonna 
above,  protecting  it,  together  with  S.  Agata 
and  S.  Emilio. 

How  did  the  Robbia  clan  come  to  so  far- 
away a  place  as  this  ?  And  who  were  they 
of  all  those  we  may  name  ?  It  might  seem 
certain  that  the  Sforza  Lords  of  Santa  Flora  in 
the  fifteenth  century,  as  we  shall  see,  holding 
Radicofani  too  as  Podesta,  brought  Andrea 
della  Robbia  and  his  pupils  perhaps  not  only 
to  Santa  Flora,  where  so  much  of  their  work 
remains,  but  to  Radicofani  also,  where  in  the 
small  but  beautiful  churches  even  to-day,  their 
work,  so  full  of  coolness  in  the  summer  heats, 
shines  with  the  country  flowers  upon  the  altars, 
not  less  in  place  than  they. 
7 


98  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

S.  Pietro  too,  the  parish  church,  has  a  treasure 
less  tangible,  certainly,  but  perhaps  to  some  of 
us,  at  any  rate,  not  less  precious  than  its  della 
Robbia  ware,  in  a  legend  "  of  the  judgment 
which  befel  a  very  great  and  cruel  usurer  of 
Radicofani."  Fra  Filippo  tells  the  tale  in  his 
Bnsamples. 

"  There  was,"  says  he,  "  in  the  town  of  Radico- 
fani a  wretched  man ;  and  albeit  he  became 
very  old  it  might  be  said  of  him  as  saith  the 
proverb  :  '  Accursed  is  the  child  of  a  hundred 
years  old.'  All  the  days  of  his  life  this 
wretched  man  lent  money  upon  usury,  and 
never  had  he  any  sickness.  And  although  he 
had  many  vices,  especially  was  he  covetous 
and  avaricious  and  cruel  and  an  enemy  of  the 
poor,  in  far  greater  measure  than  the  devil  had 
known  how  to  make  him  ;  and  rather  would  he 
that  the  victuals  and  other  things,  which  at  any 
time  remained  over  in  his  house,  should  be 
flung  away  than  that  they  should  be  given  to 
the  poor ;  and  never  was  he  seen  to  give  alms'; 
nor  was  he  willing  that  any  should  be  given  in 
his  house.  Now  when  his  accursed  days  were 
ended,  he  was  smitten  suddenly  with  an 
apoplexy ;  wherefore  they  laid  him  upon  his 
bed.     Afterward  two  young  men  were  sent  for 


TO  RADICOFANI  99 

a  venerable  physician  of  very  holy  life,  who 
was  a  native  of  the  town  and  dwelt  therein. 
And  this  befell  between  two  and  three  hours 
after  nightfall.  And  when  the  physician  had 
departed  from  his  house  toward  the  house  of 
the  sick  man,  and  had  gone  half-way  thither, 
albeit  the  weather  was  clear  and  calm,  and  the 
heaven  was  full  of  stars,  and  no  cloud  was  to 
be  seen  in  the  sky,  yet  there  came  a  passing 
great  thundering  and  lightening  so  that  all  men 
were  astonied  ;  and,  when  he  had  reached  the 
door  of  the  house,  there  followed  another 
thunder  clap  with  lightening  twice  as  great 
as  at  the  first,  and,  in  like  manner,  all  men 
were  stunned  thereby.  And  afterward,  when 
he  had  entered  the  courtyard  and  would  have 
gone  into  the  chamber  of  the  wretched  sick 
man,  there  came  a  third  flash  of  lightening, 
with  a  thundering  so  horrible  that  it  stunned 
whomsoever  was  in  the  chamber ;  and  the 
physician  and  those  who  were  with  him  in 
the  house  fell  to  the  ground,  and  all  the 
windows  of  the  chamber  where  the  sick  man 
lay  were  broken  and  burst  open,  and  all  the 
lights  which  were  in  the  house  were  put  out ; 
and  they  remained  prostrate  upon  the  ground 
for  the  space  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or  more  ; 


100  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

and  so  terrified  were  they  that  none  of  them 
dared  to  raise  himself  up.  Afterward,  at  the 
last,  they  lighted  a  lamp  and  went  to  the  sick 
man  and  found  him  dead.  And  thus  the  devil 
carried  away  his  soul. 

"  Now,  when  I  had  already  written  the  afore- 
said ensample  divers  times,  according  as  it  had 
been  told  me  by  the  son  of  the  said  physician, 
I  afterward  heard  it  from  the  lips  of  the 
physician  himself,  the  which  was  a  man  of 
credit,  at  least  ninety  years  old,  of  holy  life, 
and  a  passing  venerable  person.  He  told  me 
that  there  came  on  a  sudden  so  great  rain  and 
hail  and  tempest  that  it  seemed  that  all  the 
town  must  be  swallowed  up ;  and  all  the  house 
trembled  and  all  the  tiles  of  the  roof  thereof 
were  beaten  together ;  and  whoever  was  in  the 
chamber  swooned  away  ;  and,  in  the  morning, 
all  along  the  road  which  led  from  the  house  of 
the  dead  usurer  out  of  Radicofani,  for  seven 
miles,  the  ground  was  covered  with  toads. 
And  on  one  side  of  the  road  and  on  the  other, 
the  trees  and  vines  and  thickets  were  all 
broken  and  splintered.  And  neither  before 
nor  after  in  that  mountain  of  Radicofani  was 
there  ever  seen  a  single  toad.  Moreover,  the 
physician  told  me  that  the  priest  of  the  town 


TO  RADICOFANI  loi 

buried  that  usurer  in  the  church  for  money  ; 
wherefore  afterward,  in  the  night  time,  there 
were  heard  such  knockings  and  such  tempest 
and  clamour  in  the  church  that  no  man  in  all 
the  town  might  sleep  therefor.  Wherefore,  in 
the  morning,  the  people  of  the  town  hastened 
to  the  church  and  dug  up  that  wretched  body 
and  buried  it  without  the  town  in  the  most 
base  and  shameful  place  that  they  could  find." 

It  is,  however,  to  a  more  admirable  villain 
that  our  thoughts  continually  turn,  as  we  look 
up  to  the  Rocca,  that  strange,  fierce,  almost 
grotesque  fortress,  ruined  now,  which  under 
rain  or  sun  dominates  the  whole  village,  and 
hangs  there  in  the  sky  like  some  threatening 
stemma,  some  fantastic  coat  of  arms.  The 
country-folk  tell  you  that  Ghino  di  Tacco  still 
haunts  the  valley  of  the  Paglia,  and  here  in  his 
own  mountain,  certainly,  the  remembrance  of 
the  man  whose  victim  Dante]  met  in  Purgatory 
is  never  very  far  away — 

"  Quivj  era  I'Aretin,  che  dalle  braccia 
Fiere  di  Ghin  di  Tacco  ebbe  la  morte." 

(Canto  vi.  13-14-) 

But  little  doubtless  remains  of  the  fortress 
Ghino  built  on  that  mountain  -  top,  whose 
scarped  height  overlooks   not  only   the  valley 


I02  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

of  the  Paglia  and  the  road  to  Rome,  but  the  valley 
of  the  Orcia  and  the  way  to  Siena,  the  pass 
over  Cetona  too,  and  the  roads  to  Chiusi  and 
Umbria.  As  you  climb  to-day  up  that  rough, 
steep  way,  among  the  stones,  to  where,  sailing 
high  in  air,  the  ruined  castle  still  leers  across 
the  world,  it  is  the  remnants  of  the  Sienese  and 
Papal  stronghold  you  pass,  and  yet  it  is 
certainly  not  of  them  you  are  thinking,  but  of 
the  cruel  exploits  of  that  ruined  gentleman, 
turned  highwayman,  who  slew  Benincasa  to 
avenge  his  father,  and  captured  the  Abbot  of 
Cligni,  and  won  thereby  peace  for  a  little,  but 
fell  at  last  under  the  daggers  perhaps  of  the 
Counts  of  Santa  Fiora,  who  hated  him  and 
whom  he  hated. 

Ghino  di  Tacco  is  a  characteristic  figure  of 
his  time.  There  must  have  been  many  such 
in  Italy  when  the  Signorotti,  having  acquired 
their  lordships  rather  than  conquered  them, 
as  Aquarone  insists,  and  the  opportunity  for 
any  personal  enterprise  of  the  sort  had  passed 
away,  many  a  patrician  found  himself  almost 
starving,  and  at  the  mercy  of  the  crowd  in  the 
city  where  he  lived  or  had  taken  refuge.  This 
seems  to  have  been  Ghino's  case.  There  are 
many   theories    of    his    birth,    but    Aquarone, 


TO  RADICOFANI  103 

following  Tommasi  in  this,  comes  to  the  con- 
clusion that  he  was  the  son  of  Tacco 
Monaceschi  de'  Pecorai  da  Torrita.  However 
this  may  be,  Ghino  was  brought  up  as  a  boy  to 
a  wild  and  violent  life,  till  his  family,  his  father, 
his  brother  Turino  and  himself,  "  disgusted 
with  the  Republic,"  as  Gigli  says,  were  cacciati 
di  Siena ^  expelled  from  Siena,  as  Boccaccio 
tells  us,  one  day  in  1279.  They  became 
robbers,  haunting  the  way  between  Siena  and 
Asinalunga,  till  one  day  Siena  thought  fit  to 
attend  to  them  with  a  force  some  six  hundred 
strong.     Then  Siena  occupied  Torrita. 

One  day  when  Ghino  was  away  on  the  road, 
Tacco,  his  father,  and  Turino,  his  brother,  were 
taken  by  the  Sienese  and  imprisoned  in  Siena,and 
later  tried  before  Messer  Benincasa  di  Laterina 
in  the  Aretino,  Vicar  of  the  Podesta.  They 
were  hanged  ;  but  Ghino  was  free,  and,  as 
Aquarone  puts  it,  while  he  was  at  large  "the  air 
of  Siena  no  longer  suited  Messer  Benincasa." 
So  he  sought  some  other  business  elsewhere,  and 
having  no  little  reputation  in  jurisprudence  he 
became  Attditor  Papce  and  went  to  Rome. 
Even  there,  as  it  proved,  he  was  not  safe. 
Ghino  was  not  to  be  denied.  He  had  often 
looked  up  to  the    height  of   Radicofani  as  he 


I04  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

lurked  in  the  valley,  perhaps  often  hidden 
there  to  spy  out  his  prey,  on  a  summer  evening 
when  the  stars  shine  like  jewels  in  a  mons- 
trance round  that  spotless  Host  the  moon.  So, 
tired  of  robbing  on  the  road  as  a  common 
highwayman,  and  hoping  to  make  himself  still 
a  lord,  he  determined  to  secure  himself  in  that 
place.  Nor  was  it  long  before  it  happened  so, 
for  with  him  to  think  was  to  act.  And  once 
established  there,  like  a  bird  of  prey  he  sat  all 
day  looking  towards  Rome.  It  was  perhaps 
dawn  when  he  set  out  with  "some  four 
hundred  of  his  brigands,"  as  Gigli  says,  all 
on  swift  horses,  heartily  ready.  Through  that 
dawn,  and  the  day  and  the  night,  they  rode  to 
Rome.  They  surprised  a  gate  and  held  it. 
Then  Ghino,  with  a  few  followers,  rode  through 
the  city  on  to  the  Capitol,  where  he  knew  he 
would  find  Benincasa  about  his  business. 
There,  indeed,  "  in  an  upper  room  at  audience  " 
he  found  him,  killed  him  on  the  very  judgment- 
seat,  and,  taking  his  head,  came  away  without 
hindrance.  And  remounting  his  horse  he 
rode  in  the  midst  of  his  few  followers  through 
the  City,  leaving  it  by  the  same  gate  through 
which  he  had  come  in,  and  so  back  to  Radi- 
cofani,  that  he  was  then  able  to  call  his  own. 


TO  RADICOFANI  105 

Now  it  was  with  something  of  the  same 
persistent  violence,  less  sinister,  but  not  less 
fearless,  that  the  enemy  of  God,  the  Pope,  and 
the  Counts  of  Santa  Fiora,  made  his  peace  with 
Boniface  viii.,  as  Boccaccio  tells  us,  yet  he 
came  to  die  at  last  like  a  gentleman  truly,  and 
a  lord,  but  at  bay,  fighting,  slain  by  an 
hundred  wounds. 

"  Ghino  di  Tacco,  "  Boccaccio  tells  us  in 
Elisa's  story  from  the  second  novel  on  the  last 
day  of  the  Decameron, — "  Ghino  di  Tacco,  a 
man  both  for  his  boldness  and  for  his  robberies 
sufficiently  famous,  being  banished  from  Siena, 
and  at  enmity  with  the  Counts  of  Santa  Fiora, 
caused  Radicofani  to  revolt  from  the  rule  of 
the  Church  of  Rome,  and  establishing  himself 
there,  he  and  his  band  robbed  throughout  the 
neighbourhood.  Now  Boniface  viii.  being 
Pope  in  Rome,  the  Abbot  of  Cligni  came  to 
Court,  and  he  was  believed  to  be  one  of  the 
richest  Prelates  in  the  world.  His  stay  at 
Court  having  somewhat  injured  his  digestion, 
he  was  advised  by  the  doctors  to  go  to  the 
Baths  of  Siena  where  he  would  be  cured  with- 
out a  doubt.  Obtaining  leave  from  the  Pope, 
without  caring  for  the  fame  of  Ghino,  he  set 
out  on  his   road  with  much  pomp  of  harness 


lo6  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

and  baggage,  with  many  horses  and  a  whole 
retinue  of  servants.  Ghino  di  Tacco,  hearing 
of  his  coming,  set  his  snares,  and,  without  losing 
the  meanest  stable-boy,  in  a  narrow  place 
captured  the  Abbot  with  all  his  household  and 
his  possessions.  This  done,  he  sent,  well 
accompanied,  to  the  Abbot  one  of  the  wiliest 
of  his  men,  who  on  his  behalf  told  him  very 
politely  that  he  must  be  pleased  to  dismount 
and  to  visit  Ghino  in  the  Castello.  When  the 
Abbot  heard  this  he  was  furious,  and  replied 
that  he  wanted  for  nothing,  that  one  like  him- 
self had  nothing  to  do  with  Ghino  ;  but  that 
he  would  continue  on  his  way,  and  he  would 
like  to  see  who  would  stop  him.  To  whom 
the  Ambassador,  speaking  humbly,  said  : 
*  Messere,  you  are  come  to  a  place  where,  save 
for  the  power  of  God,  nothing  makes  us  afraid, 
and  where  excommunications  and  interdicts 
are  themselves  excommunicated ;  and  there- 
fore it  would  be  better  to  satisfy  Ghino  in  this.' 
During  this  conversation,  the  place  had  already 
been  surrounded  by  brigands,  so  that  the 
Abbot,  seeing  himself  and  those  with  him 
prisoners,  very  scornfully  followed  the  Ambas- 
sador towards  the  Castello ;  and  there  went 
along    with    him   all    his    people,    and    all    his 


TO  RADICOFANI  107 

harness.  Dismounting  there,  as  Ghino  wished, 
he  was  placed  all  alone  in  a  small  room  of  a 
palace  rather  dark  and  inconvenient,  and  all  his 
household,  each  according  to  his  quality,  was 
well  lodged,  and  for  the  horses  and  the  baggage, 
they  were  taken  good  care  of,  no  one  touching 
anything.  Later  Ghino  himself  went  to  the 
Abbot  and  said  to  him  :  '  Messere,  Ghino, 
whose  guest  you  are,  sends  praying  you  to  be 
pleased  to  tell  him  where  you  were  going  and 
on  what  occasion.'  The  Abbot,  who  like  a 
wise  man,  had  already  abated  some  of  his 
haughtiness,  told  him  where  he  was  going,  and 
why.  When  Ghino  heard  this,  he  went  off 
determined  to  cure  him  without  any  baths. 
Having  ordered  a  great  fire  to  be  kept  con- 
stantlv  burninof  in  the  Abbot's  room  which  was 
small,  he  did  not  revisit  him  till  the  next 
morning,  and  then  in  the  whitest  napkin  he 
brought  him  two  slices  of  bread,  toasted,  and  a 
great  cup  of  vernaccia  da  Corniglia,  the  Abbot's 
own,  and  said  to  him  :  '  Messere,  when  Ghino 
was  very  young  he  studied  in  medicine  and  he 
says  that  there  will  never  be  a  better  medicine 
for  your  complaint  than  that  he  will  give  you, 
of  which  these  things  which  I  bring  are  the 
beginning,  and  therefore  partake  of  them  and 


io8  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

be  comforted.'  The  Abbot,  who  would  rather 
eat  than  be  witty,  though  still  with  a  certain 
disdain,  ate  the  bread,  and  drank  the  vernaccia  : 
then  he  began  to  say  many  things,  a  litde 
haughtily,  asking  many  things  and  advising 
many  things,  and  especially  he  demanded  that 
he  might  see  Ghino  himself.  Hearing  this, 
Ghino  took  no  notice  of  much  that  he  said, 
answered  courteously  the  rest,  and  declaring 
that  Ghino  would  visit  him,  very  soon  departed, 
only  returning  on  the  following  day  again  with 
toasted  bread  and  vernaccia  :  and  so  he  did 
many  days  till  he  found  the  Abbot  had  eaten 
some  dried  beans  which  he  had  purposely 
carried  and  left  there  :  then  on  behalf  of  Ghino 
he  asked  the  Abbot  how  he  was.  The  Abbot 
replied  :  '  It  appears  to  me  that  I  should  be 
well  enough  if  I  were  out  of  his  hands,  after 
that  I  should  have  no  greater  desire  than  to 
eat,  so  thoroughly  have  his  remedies  cured  me.' 
"  Ghino  then  had  a  beautiful  room  prepared 
with  the  Abbot's  own  belongings,  and  caused 
a  fine  banquet  to  be  set  out,  to  which,  with 
many  men  of  the  Castello,  were  invited  all 
the  household  of  the  Abbot.  The  following 
morning  he  went  to  him  and  said,  '  Messere, 
since  you  feel  well,  it  is  time  you  should  quit 


TO  RADICOFANI  109 

this  infirmary.'  Then  taking  him  by  the  hand 
he  led  him  into  the  room  he  had  prepared  ; 
and  leaving  him  there  with  his  own  people  he 
went  off  to  make  sure  the  banquet  should  be 
magnificent.  The  Abbot  amused  himself  a 
little  with  his  people,  and  gave  them  an  account 
of  his  life,  while  they,  on  the  other  hand,  told 
him  how  surpassing  well  they  had  been  enter- 
tained by  Ghino.  But  the  hour  for  dining  was 
come ;  the  Abbot  and  the  others  were  nobly 
entertained  with  excellent  food  and  wines, 
though  Ghino  did  not  even  then  declare 
himself.  When  the  Abbot  had  been  treated  in 
this  fashion  for  some  days,  Ghino,  having  made 
them  put  all  his  goods  into  a  great  room  and 
all  his  horses,  even  to  the  last  pony,  into  a 
court  under  it,  went  to  the  Abbot  and  asked 
him  how  he  felt  and  whether  he  thought  him- 
self well  enough  to  gfo  on  horseback.  And  the 
Abbot  replied  that  he  felt  well  enough,  and 
was  indeed  thoroughly  cured,  and  that  he 
would  be  perfectly  well  if  he  could  only  get 
out  of  Ghino's  hands.  Then  Ghino  brought 
him  into  the  room  where  were  all  his  goods 
and  all  his  whole  household,  and  causing  him 
to  look  from  a  window  at  all  his  horses,  he 
said :    '  Messere    Abate,    you    ought    to    know 


no  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

that  it  is  not  wickedness  of  heart  which  has 
caused  Ghino  di  Tacco — for  I  am  he — to 
become  a  highway  robber  and  an  enemy  of 
the  Court  of  Rome,  but  rather  his  position  as 
a  gentleman,  driven  from  his  own  house,  and 
the  necessity  to  defend  his  Hfe  and  nobihty 
against  many  powerful  enemies ;  but  you 
appear  to  be  an  honourable  lord,  and,  as  I  have 
cured  you  of  your  illness,  I  do  not  intend  to 
treat  you  as  I  should  another  who  should  fall 
into  my  hands,  taking  from  him  what  might 
please  me.  On  the  contrary,  I  intend  that, 
having  considered  my  necessities,  you  should 
give  me  what  you  think  is  owing.  Here  is  all 
that  is  yours  :  from  that  window  you  see  your 
horses  in  the  courtyard  ;  take,  therefore,  either 
a  part  or  the  whole  as  it  shall  please  you  ;  from 
this  hour  you  may  go  or  stay,  as  you  will.' 

"  The  Abbot,  astonished  to  hear  such  gener- 
ous words  from  a  highwayman,  being  much 
delighted,  felt  his  anger  and  disdain  suddenly 
dissolve  into  kindness,  and  in  his  heart  grew  a 
wish  to  become  Ghino's  friend.  Running  to 
him  to  embrace  him,  he  said  :  '  I  swear  to 
God  that  to  gain  the  friendship  of  such  an  one 
as  I  take  you  to  be,  I  might  well  suffer  a 
deeper  injury  than  you   have  inflicted   on  me 


TO  RADICOFANI  III 

here.  Cursed  be  the  evil  fortune  which  has 
led  you  to  such  a  damnable  life  as  this !  * 
Then  taking  only  a  few  necessities  and  some 
of  his  horses,  he  left  the  rest  to  Ghino,  and 
returned  to  Rome. 

"  Now  the  Pope  had  heard  of  the  Abbot's 
capture,  and  had  been  much  distressed  by  it. 
When  he  saw  him  he  asked  him  if  the  baths 
had  benefited  him  ;  to  which  the  Abbot  smil- 
ingly answered  :  '  Holy  Father,  I  found,  before 
arriving  at  the  baths,  a  physician  who  has 
thoroughly  cured  me.'  Then  he  told  him  the 
story,  and,  urged  thereto  by  his  generosity, 
asked  a  favour.  The  Pope,  imagining  that  he 
would  ask  some  other  thing,  freely  granted  him 
what  he  should  ask.  '  Holy  Father,'  said  the 
Abbot,  '  what  I  wish  to  ask  of  you  is,  that  you 
give  a  free  pardon  to  Ghino  di  Tacco,  my 
doctor,  because,  among  all  estimable  people  I 
have  met,  he  is  the  most  worthy,  and  the  harm 
he  does  is  to  be  imputed  rather  to  bad  fortune 
than  to  an  evil  heart ;  change,  then,  this  bad 
fortune  by  giving  him  something  from  which  he 
can  live  according  to  his  position,  and  I  do  not 
doubt  but  that  in  a  little  time  he  will  pay  you 
as  he  has  paid  me.'  Hearing  this  the  Pope, 
who  had  a  great  soul  and  loved  valiant  men, 


112  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

said  he  would  do  it  willingly  if,  indeed,  it  was 
as  he  said.  With  this  promise,  Ghino  came 
to  Court,  where  the  Pope,  soon  convinced  of 
his  worth  and  reconciled  to  him,  gave  him  a 
great  Priory  with  a  hospital,  and  made  a 
Kniofht  of  him.  There  he  remained  the  friend 
and  servant  of  Holy  Church,  and  of  the  Abbot 
of  Cligni  as  long  as  he  lived." 

Thus  far  Boccaccio,  but  Da  Imola  tells  us  that 
the  Pope  created  him  Cavaliere  di  S.  Giovanni, 
and  that  in  his  benefice  he  maintained  splendida 
vita.  As  Knight  of  S.  John,  and  the  Pope's 
very  good  friend,  he  doubtless  found  it  easier 
to  deal  with  the  Sienese  Republic.  Later, 
Da  Imola  says  he  retired  to  Fratta,  perhaps  his 
native  village,  a  Castello  between  Torrita  and 
Sinalunga  in  Val  di  Chiana.  However  that 
may  be,  not  long  after  his  son  Dino  became 
Archbishop  of  Pisa.  The  Counts  of  Santa 
Fiora,  however,  would  not  pardon  him  nor 
give  him  peace.  As  great  robbers  as  himself, 
it  may  be  they  resented  his  success,  and 
especially  his  peace  with  the  Church.  One 
day  as  he  went  about  in  Sinalunga  he  was  set 
upon  by  a  number  of  armed  men,  Da  Imola 
tells  us,  and  bravely  defending  himself,  but 
in  vain,  he  fell  pierced  by  an  hundred  wounds. 


VIII 

BAGNI  DI  S.  FILIPPO,  CAMPIGLIA 
D'ORCIA,  AND  VIVO 

T  T  was  again  very  early  in  the  morning 
^  when  I  set  out  along  Via  Francigena 
northwards  for  the  Bagni  di  S.  Filippo,  and 
lingering  by  the  way  came  to  that  white,  burn- 
ing place  towards  midday.  Hidden  away  as 
it  were,  in  the  cup  of  a  geyser  in  Val  d'Orcia, 
beside  the  torrent  of  Rondinaja,  the  little 
place  is  like  a  white,  glistening  scar  in  the 
tawny  valley,  covered  with  the  stalactite 
deposit  of  the  waters  that  cure  the  ills  they 
say  of  all  Sardinia  and  Maremma.  The  village 
of  S.  Filippo  was  originally  the  property  of 
the  monks  of  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore,  till  it 
passed  from  them  to  the  Commune  of  Orvieto, 
and  then  to  the  Visconti  of  Campiglia  d'Orcia, 
towering  above  on  the  bleak  hillside  like  some 
fantastic  pinnacle  of  the  Mountain.  The 
Visconti    did    not  hold    it  long,  however,  and 


114  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

at  last,  like  every  other  village  in  this  country,  it 
came  into  the  power  of  the  Republic  of  Siena. 

The  modern  buildings  in  their  heroic  attempts 
at  comfort  seem  to  shame  the  remains  of  older 
baths,  of  which,  however,  the  earliest  notice 
belongs  to  the  fourteenth  century.  It  was 
at  the  Baths  of  Petriuolo,  of  Macereto,  Vignone, 
Rapolano,  and  S.  Casciano  that  in  the  Middle 
Age  the  best  society  of  Siena  met  together 
during  the  hot  months,  and  as  Signor  Falletti- 
Fossati  in  his  Costumi  Sanese,  and  Mr.  William 
Heywood  in  his  admirable  and  too  little  known 
Ensamples  of  Fra  Filippo,  tell  us, — nor  are 
the  novelists,  as  we  have  seen,  wanting  in 
evidence, — thither  came  ecclesiastics  and  nobles 
from  all  Tuscany,  and  even  from  Rome. 
"  From  all  directions,  on  horseback,  on  foot, 
in  litters,  in  carriages,  or  in  carts  drawn  by 
buffaloes,  with  children,  in  salmis  sive  cistis,^^ 
says  Mr.  Heywood,  quoting  Signor  Falletti- 
Fossati,  "they  thronged  to  the  various  baths 
of  the  contado,  where  they  enjoyed  the  freedom 
of  country  life  and  the  benefit  of  the  waters." 
And  though,  as  I  have  said,  it  is  true  we  know 
nothing  of  Bagni  di  S.  Filippo  before  the 
beginning  of  the  fourteenth  century,  we  may 
be  sure  that  it  too  was  one  of  those  places  of 


BAGNI  DI  S.   FILIPPO  115 

villegiatura,  only  smaller  and  less  known  than 
Vignone,  where  S.  Catherine  of  Siena,  then 
but  fourteen  years  old,  was  taken  by  her 
parents  in  the  hope  that  the  gay  society  she 
would  meet  there  might  turn  her  thoughts 
from  the  conventual  life  which  she  had  already 
chosen  as  her  own.  "  Each  bather,"  Mr. 
Hey  wood  tells  us,  "paid  a  tax  or  toll  to  the 
purchaser  delle  gabelle  dei  bagni,  which  varied 
from  six  denari  to  two  soldi,  according  as  the 
individual  who  paid  it  was  a  noble,  a  doctor, 
or  a  burgess,  and  whether  he  arrived  on  horse- 
back or  on  foot.  The  payment  of  this  tax 
entitled  him  who  paid  it  to  use  the  bath  for 
the  whole  season,  or  if  he  preferred  it  to 
change  from  one  establishment  to  another.  .  .  . 
In  the  fourteenth  century  the  arrangements 
at  the  Bagni  were  sufficiently  primitive.  The 
Statuto  del  Co^nune  di  Siena  .  .  .  explains 
that  it  had  been  provided  that  a  house  should 
be  built  on  the  plain  of  the  Bath  of  Macereto, 
with  a  wall  at  least  six  braccia  high  and 
distant  four  braccia  from  the  women's  bath. 
On  this  was  to  be  painted  in  good  colours 
an  affresco  of  the  Virgin,  Christ,  and  the 
Apostles  James  and  Philip.  In  the  open 
space  in  front  of  the  house  there  was  a  foun- 


Ii6  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

tain,  in  the  centre  of  which  stood  a  hollow 
marble  column.  The  water  'pro  meliora- 
mento  dicte  acque '  descended  like  rain  into 
the  basin  below,  and  was  then  carried  by 
channels,  constructed  for  the  purpose,  into 
two  vasche,  one  of  which  was  used  by  the 
men  and  the  other  by  the  women.  .  .  . 

"  A  little  before  the  bathing  season  com- 
menced, namely  in  May  and  June,  the  Signori 
selected  certain  bonos  legales  et  fidedignos 
homines  who  repaired  to  the  various  baths, 
examined  the  houses,  the  chambers  and  the 
stationes  existing  there  ;  inspected  the  furniture 
and  the  beds,  ascertained  how  many  there 
were  of  them,  and  how  equipped,  and  in  what 
manner  they  were  adorned ;  fixed  the  prices 
of  lodgings,  and  compelled  the  proprietors  to 
place  a  notice  de  licteris  crossis  stipra  hostium 
et  in  pariete  cuiiisque  camere  et  stationis, 
stating  the  number  of  beds  available,  and 
the  price  asked  for  them.  It  is,  however, 
clear  that  the  stationarii  could  only  hope  to 
accommodate  a  very  small  proportion  of  the 
bathers,  and  that  the  majority  of  them  were 
compelled  to  seek  shelter  in  tents  and 
pavilions,  pitched  in  the  open  country  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  stabilinientiy 


BAGNI  DI  S.  FILIPPO  117 

The  Bagni  di  S.  Filippo  were  supposed  to 
be  sfood  for  rheumatism  and  cutaneous  diseases. 
Certainly  from  the  year  1400  the  place  has 
been  a  populous  Castello.  The  baths,  if  they 
then  existed,  seem  to  have  been  but  little 
known,  and  it  was  one  of  the  good  deeds  of 
Cosimo  I.  to  establish  or  revive  them.  In  1 5 1 2, 
certainly,  the  magnificent  Pandolfo  Petrucci 
came  here  to  cure  his  asthma,  but  got  no 
better,  and  setting  out  hence  on  the  20th  May 
for  Siena,  died  at  S.  Quirico  on  the  following 
day.  More  than  a  hundred  years  later,  in 
1635,  Ferdinando  11.,  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany, 
cured  himself  here  of  a  headache,  as  we  may 
read  in  the  inscription  taken  from  the  old 
baths — 

"Ferdinandus  11  Magnus  HelruricC  Dux  V 
Dum  Adversa  Valetudine  Laboraret 

Thermis  Hisce 
Capitis  Languore  Depulso 

Bene  Convaluit 
Lcelius  Guglielmus 
Ob  Restitituti  principis  Gloriam 
Hoc  egregias  Medelas  Monumentus 
Posteris  excitavit  a.d.  MDCXXXV." 

Very  early  on  the  following  morning,  in 
fear  of  the  heat  in  that  low  place,  I  climbed  out 
of  the  white  chasm  of  S.  Filippo  on  to  the 
bare,  burnt  hillside,  on  my  way  to  Campiglia 


ii8  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

d'Orcia.  On  that  lonely,  rude  and  beautiful 
way,  I  met  no  one  save  a  little  girl  spinning 
thread  from  the  distaff,  as  she  minded  a  few 
poor  sheep  anxiously  nibbling  among  the 
spare,  dried  grass,  over  which  the  wind  passed 
and  repassed  with  a  sibilant  sound  from  the 
valley  to  the  hills.  It  was  not  much  past 
eight  o'clock  when  I  came  to  Campiglia. 
Set  high  on  a  sudden  torn  pinnacle  of  rock, 
that  rises  almost  like  a  tower  from  the  great 
northern  bastion  of  Mont'  Amiata,  the  Rocca 
of  Campiglia,  all  that  is  left  of  it,  towers  over 
the  squalid  village  crouched  beneath,  like  an 
arrogant  lord  over  a  poor  and  beaten  man. 
The  place  itself,  the  lordship,  consists  of  this 
village  and  two  ancient  and  ruined  fortresses. 
The  larger  of  these,  as  Repetti  tells  us,  was 
the  Cassero  or  Palazzo  of  the  despots  of  Cam- 
piglia, which  rises  behind  the  Borgo  ;  the  other, 
1500  braccia  above  the  sea,  stands  on  the 
summit  of  a  higher  mass  of  rocks  called 
Campigliaccia,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  or  more 
away  to  the  east. 

Passing  through  the  village  to  the  higher 
ground  behind  it,  not  without  difficulty,  I 
scrambled  half-way  up  to  the  first  of  these 
fortresses.     There  I  met  the  wind.     It  caught 


CAMPIGLIA  D'ORCIA  119 

me  round  about,  and  flung  me  against  the 
brutal  rocks  of  that  devil's  eyrie,  seeming 
to  laugh  at  my  efforts  to  win  to  the  summit. 
But  I  had  set  my  heart  on  standing  on  the 
pinnacle,  whence  of  old  the  good  men  of 
Siena  flung  down  Visconti's  men.  At  last, 
not  without  fear  and  labour,  I  succeeded.  I 
found  myself  on  a  platform  of  rock  covered 
with  tufa,  at  the  top  of  a  tower  of  rock, 
precipitous  on  all  sides,  save  that  by  which 
I  had  climbed,  and  even  there  very  steep. 
The  whole  space  of  the  platform  was  not 
more  than  twenty  square  feet.  Yet  it  was  here, 
on  this  inaccessible  tower,  that  the  Visconti 
built  their  nest,  that  "  larger  cassero  or  palace  " 
of  which  Repetti  speaks.  It  seems  impossible  ; 
there  is  scarcely  room  for  a  tower,  and  none 
at  all  for  a  palace,  and  one  might  more  easily 
hurl  stones  down  thence  than  bring  them  up. 
And,  indeed,  that  is  what  they  did.  In  the 
village  street,  beside  the  post  office,  stand  the 
great  granite  stones,  in  shape  like  cheeses, 
they  once  rolled  down  on  their  assailants. 
Two  of  these  only,  dropped  into  the  village 
from  that  lofty  fortress,  might  seem  able  to 
destroy  it.  Judge,  then,  how  the  people  loved 
their  lords,  and  how  these  in  their  turn  com- 


I20  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

pelled  obedience.  And  truly  the  sight  of 
these  ponderous  missiles,  and  of  the  jagged 
height,  fills  one  with  admiration  for  the  per- 
sistence, force,  and  courage  of  the  good  citizens 
of  Siena,  who  in  1234  succeeded  in  storming 
both  this  fortress  and  the  Campigliaccia. 

These  despots,  who  for  so  long  held  their 
folk  here  in  such  perilous  safety,  were  the 
Visconti,  not  the  Milanese  Visconti,  but 
apparently  a  local  stock  of  nobles  bearing  that 
name.  They  were,  it  seems,  simply  the  viscounts 
(vice-comites)  of  Campiglia ;  at  first,  as  their 
name  implies,  they  were  perhaps  merely  the 
agents  or  delegates  of  those  ancient  Counts 
who,  long  after  their  authority  in  Siena  itself 
had  passed  to  the  Bishops,  and  from  the 
Bishops  to  the  Commune,  still  represented 
the  Emperor  more  or  less  effectually  in  the 
towns  of  the  contado.  The  first  notice  we 
have  of  them  seems  to  be  in  an  instrument  of 
1 07 1,  which  was  executed  in  the  presence  of  a 
certain  Count  Raineri,  son  of  Guido,  Visconte 
of  Campiglia.  Later,  in  1163,  Viscount 
Sinibaldo  of  Campiglia  was  in  Montepulciano  at 
the  time  of  the  publication  of  a  placitufn  by 
the  Imperial  Legate  in  favour  of  the  Abbey  of 
S.  Antimo ;  while  in  1197  we  find  Napoleone, 


CAMPIGLIA  DORCIA  121 

son  of  Sinibaldo,  promising  to  pay  three  silver 
marks  yearly  by  way  of  tribute  to  the  Republic 
of  Siena.  It  was,  however,  Pepo,  the  son  of 
Tancredi,  who  held  the  place  in  1234,  when, 
having  sworn  allegiance  and  friendship  to  the 
Sienese,  he  went  over  to  the  Orvietani  and 
the  Florentines  in  the  affair  of  Montalcino. 
For  his  perjury,  as  we  have  seen,  Campiglia 
was  stormed  and  taken  from  him.  For  a  time 
an  agfent  of  the  Commune  seems  to  have 
resided  in  Campiglia,  but  in  1254  the  Floren- 
tines insisted  that  it  should  be  restored  to  the 
Visconti ;  and  six  years  later  we  find  Pepo 
Visconti  fighting  against  Siena  at  the  battle 
of  Montaperti.  In  1264  Campiglia  was  again 
besieged  by  the  Sienese,  and  though  Pepo 
and  Napoleone  made  good  their  escape  to 
Orvieto,  their  citadel  was  once  more  taken 
and  destroyed.  Henceforward  the  Visconti 
gave  comparatively  little  trouble  ;  Orvieto  was 
exhausted  by  internal  quarrels,  and  growing 
weaker  year  by  year,  and  when  Siena  became 
Guelf  no  assistance  could  be  looked  for  from 
Florence.  Thus  they  who  had  once  held 
sway  not  only  over  Campiglia,  but  over 
S.  Casciano  and  Figline,  whose  influence 
extended   not   only  into  the  valleys  of  Orcia 


122  IN  UNKNOWN  TTJSCANY 

and  Paglia,  but  as  far  as  the  Chiana,  were 
compelled  to  bend  their  necks  to  the  difficult 
yoke  of  the  Communes,  and  in  the  year  1374 
we  find  that  they  alone  of  all  the  nobles  of  the 
contado  remained  faithful  to  Siena  in  the  war 
against  the  Salimbeni.  The  family  continued 
to  rule  in  Campiglia  till  its  extinction  in  the 
fifteenth  century. 

I  had  not  much  time  to  linger  in  Campiglia, 
and  indeed  there  is  but  little  to  see  save  the 
Rocca,  for  I  wished  to  reach  Vivo  by  midday, 
and  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore  by  evening.  So 
after  half  an  hour  on  that  windy  platform, 
whence  you  may  see  Radicofani  splendid 
against  the  sky,  and  Castiglione  d'Orcia,  the 
stronghold  of  the  Salimbeni,  and  Montepulciano 
and  Pienza,  and  the  little  cities  of  the  Sanese 
dim  in  heat,  I  scrambled  down  and  took  to 
the  road  which  leads  at  last  to  the  railway. 
Following  this  winding  way  for  some  two 
ckilomefri,  I  came  at  last  to  the  little  chapel 
called  Madonnina,  and  turning  there  to  the  left 
followed  the  mule  path  up  into  the  woods,  past 
Podere  Casella,  through  Podere  Belvedere  to 
Vivo,  among  the  waters  in  the  shadow  of  green 
trees.  It  is  a  little  village  full  of  the  sound  of 
running  water,  set  on  a  hillside  in  the  woods. 


CAMPIGLIA  D'ORCIA  123 

Across  the  stream,  full  and  clear  and  sweet, 
from  which  Siena  now  gets  all  her  water, 
rises  the  great  villa-palace  of  the  lords  of  this 
place,  the  Conti  Cervini,  who  had  it  from  a 
Pope  long  and  long  ago.  For  it  seems  that 
Vivo  owes  her  orimn  to  a  Hermitag^e  of 
Camaldolese  monks,  who  named  the  place 
after  these  living  waters  that  still  gush  forth 
clear  and  full  even  in  the  summer  heat.  The 
Hermitage  was  dedicated  to  S.  Benedict,  and, 
as  it  is  said,  was  founded  first  in  the  eleventh 
century,  when  the  Emperors,  Henry  i.,  in 
1003,  ^^^  Frederick  i.  later,  in  11 66,  conceded 
to  it  many  privileges. 

About  1337,  however,  "on  account  of  some 
pastures,"  the  Salimbeni,  lords  of  Castiglione 
d'Orcia,  caused  "  their  vassals "  to  attack  the 
Hermitage  of  Vivo,  and  devastated  and  robbed 
it,  so  that  the  monks  were  compelled  to  seek 
refuge  in  the  monastery  of  the  Rose,  belonging 
to  their  Conorregfation  in  Siena  :  and  to  that 
house,  later,  was  given  the  patrimony  of 
Vivo,  with  that  of  Badia  di  Campo,  in  Val 
d'Orcia,  until  it  was  alienated  to  the  Farnese 
Princes,  and  sold  by  Pope  Paul  iii.  of  that 
House  to  Cardinal  Cervini,  later  Pope 
Marcello  11.,  who  left   it  to  his   nephews   and 


124  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

descendants,  who  have  always  held  it,  since 
1 70 1,  with  the  title  of  Count  granted  them  by 
Grand-Duke  Cosimo  iii. 

It  is  not,  however,  for  the  memory  of  a 
spoiled  hermitage  that  one  comes  to-day  to 
Vivo,  but  for  the  joy  and  sweetness  on  a 
summer's  day  in  Tuscany  of  those  living 
waters  which  run  so  swiftly  through  the  place 
under  the  trees,  sometimes  in  great  water- 
falls and  cascades  that  make  a  thunder  in 
the  woods,  sometimes  almost  silently  over  the 
stones,  but  always  with  a  song.  Lying  there 
in  the  long  afternoon,  that  is  so  loath 
to  go,  the  history  of  the  place  comes  back 
to  one,  and  means  how  much  less  than  the 
trembling  gold  of  the  sun  that  stains  those 
living  waters  and  will  fade  at  evening, 
the  murmur  of  the  wind  among  the  trees 
saying  who  knows  what,  passing  who  knows 
whither.  .  .  . 

You  may  go  all  the  way  by  the  woods,  if  you 
will,  from  Vivo  to  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore,  and 
in  many  a  solitary  place  spy  suddenly  the  whole 
Sienese  contado,  with  Siena  herself,  white 
against  the  mountains,  spread  out  before  you. 
Perhaps  as  you  pass  by  they  will  be  cutting 
the  corn  on  the  verge  of  the  woods,  or  on    a 


vrvo  125 

beaten  platform  of  the  earth  be  wielding  the 
flail,  singing  in  chorus.  And  you  will  stop, 
maybe,  to  talk  with  them,  supping  their  wine 
— the  yellow  wine  of  the  lower  slopes  of  the 
Mountain — talkinq-  of  harvest.  The  erain  is 
good,  you  will  hear,  very  like ;  and  the  straw, 
you  learn,  the  yellow  straw,  more  golden  than 
wine,  more  beautiful  than  fine  gold,  is  for  Val 
d'Arno,  for  Livorno,  for  Lastra  and  Signa, 
where  they  make  hats  for  such  a  lordship  as 
yourself.  And  the  grain,  too,  is  it  not  sent 
to  the  valley  there,  the  broad  valley  of 
Arno,  to  be  sown  again,  and  yield  fruit  and 
stalk  ;  and  of  that  the  finest  hats  are  made — 
yes,  such  as  your  lordship's  self  might  in  Italy, 
at  least,  not  disdain  to  wear.  And  thinking  of 
their  hard,  simple,  and  yet  so  serene  lives, 
spent  'twixt  the  woods  and  the  fields,  you 
watch  them  load  the  ass  with  his  orolden 
burden,  a  sheaf  on  this  side,  a  sheaf  on  that, 
and  another  and  another  and  another,  till  all 
that  appears  under  the  golden  burden  is  a  tired, 
placid  head,  a  drooping  tail,  and  four  honest 
sure  feet  for  the  steep,  rough  road  home.  And 
singing  as  they  go,  the  youngest  leading  the 
ass — half  in  pride,  half  for  support — they  leave 
you  on  the  Mountain,  alone  and  not  alone,  for 


126  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

there,  though  the  ways  are  solitary,  there  is 
no  loneHness,  and  though  the  paths  be  rough 
you  cannot  be  weary  in  the  hearing  of  many 
voices,  while  the  flowers  make  sweet  the 
road. 


IX 

PIAN  CASTAGNAJO 

''  I  ^HE  way,  the  old  way,  from  Abbadia  to  Pian 
-'■  Castagnajo,  whose  towers  one  sees  from 
the  hillside  above  S.  Salvatore  over  the  trees,  lies 
all  the  way  through  the  woods,  in  the  silence, 
out  of  the  sun.  You  may  go,  if  you  will,  by 
the  new  road,  with  its  views  over  the  valley 
of  the  Paglia,  southward  to  Viterbo,  almost 
to  Rome,  so  tragic  and  lonely  in  the  light 
of  early  morning ;  but  if  you  are  content  to  go 
afoot,  and  indeed  it  is  but  a  short  four  miles, 
you  will  prefer,  as  I  did,  to  follow  that  old 
paved,  mediaeval  road  through  the  forest,  for- 
saken now,  about  to  be  lost  in  the  woods,  to 
be  overwhelmed  by  the  flowers,  and  finding 
your  way,  sometimes  not  without  hesitation, 
scrambling  down  the  steep  banks  of  those  dry 
torrents  which  its  broken  bridges  no  longer 
span,  come  out  at  last  to  the  little  chapel  in 
the  wood,  La  Madonna  di  S.  Pietro,  where,  if 


128  IN   UNKNOWN   TUSCANY 

you  are  so  fortunate,  on  a  still,  dry  day  you  may 
sometimes  hear,  even  yet,  children's  voices 
chanting  the  litany  of  Our  Lady — 

"  Mater  Purissima 
Mater  Castissima 
Mater  Inviolata 

Ora  pro  nobis." 

Plan  Castagnajo  is  a  little  walled  and  fortified 
village,  built  on  the  hillside,  in  the  arms  of  the 
forest.     When  we  first  hear  of  it,  as  early  as 
890,    it    is   already    in    the    possession    of   the 
monks  of  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore,  and  is  called 
Casal  Piano.     From  about  the  year    iioo  the 
Aldobrandeschi  seem  continually  to  have  dis- 
puted with    the    monks    certain    rights    in  the 
place,    nearly    always,  it   might    seem,    to    be 
beaten.     And  then  suddenly  we  find  that  the 
Friars    Minor,    the    Franciscans,  are    already 
there,  and  anxious  about  the  consecration  of  a 
church,   S.    Bartolommeo  al    Pian  Castagnajo, 
and  that  is  only  the  second  time  we  hear  of 
the  name  the  place  bears  to-day,  the  first  being 
in  a  document  some  fifteen  years  earlier.    About 
this  time  the  Bishop  of   Sovana,  and  of  that 
place  the  Aldobrandeschi  were   counts,  seems 
to  have  put  in  a  claim   to  ecclesiastical  juris- 
diction.    The  real  state  of  the  case  is  perhaps 


PIAN  CASTAGNAJO  129 

revealed  by  a  letter  of  the  Emperor  Frederic  11., 
under  date  of  27th  August  1244,  to  his  Captain 
General  in  Tuscany,  Pandolfo  da  Fasianella,  in 
which  he  cites  the  Visconti  of  Campiglia  and  the 
Aldobrandeschi  Counts  of  Sovana  as  usurpers 
in  Monte  Nero,  and  in  Pian  Castagnajo,  of 
the  rights  of  the  Abbey  and  monks  of  Mont' 
Amiata.  Repetti  cites  the  letter,  which  goes 
on  to  say  that  these  nobles  must  appear  before 
the  end  of  sixty  days  in  the  Court  Imperial, 
to  produce  legal  evidence  of  their  rights,  and 
to  explain  their  actions  against  the  monks. 
In  1247,  the  Visconti,  who  seem  to  have  been 
the  worse  aggressors,  were  condemned  to 
restore  the  Castello  of  Pian  Castagnajo  and  its 
district  to  the  Abbey  under  a  penalty  of  140 
Pisan  lire.  The  Visconti  appealed  to  the 
court  of  second  instance,  and  again  were  beaten  ; 
the  decision  being  given  against  them  at 
S.  Quirico  in  the  following  year,  when  they 
were  declared  to  be  feudatories  of  the  Abbey 
of  S.  Salvatore.  After  further  trouble,  on  the 
9th  May  1249,  Abbot  Manfred  promised,  in  the 
name  of  the  Badia  and  of  its  Chapter,  to  invest 
the  brothers  Federigo  and  Pepone,  sons  of 
Jacopo  Visconti,  citizens  of  Siena,  with  the 
feud  of  Pian  Castagnajo,  with  its  curia,  juris- 
9 


I30  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

diction  and  district.  In  the  July  following  the 
Visconti  acknowledged  the  Abbot  as  their 
feudal  Sio^nor,  and  swore  fealty  to  him. 

Politically  the  inhabitants  of  Pian  Castagnajo 
were  at  this  time  under  the  government  of  the 
Republic  of  Orvieto,  while  civilly  the  village 
had  been  now  under  the  Aldobrandeschi,  now 
under  the  monks,  or  the  monks'  feudatories 
the  Visconti.  But  towards  the  end  of  the 
thirteenth  century  the  Aldobrandeschi  of 
Sovana  seized  the  place.  This  branch  of  the 
Aldobrandeschi  came  to  an  end  in  1284,  and 
their  universal  heir  was  Countess  Margherita, 
the  only  daughter  of  Ildebrandino.  She  had 
married  in  her  father's  lifetime  Conte  Guido 
di  Monteforte.  We  have  seen  the  struggle 
the  monks  had  with  the  Visconti  for 
possession  of  Pian  Castagnajo ;  the  same  fight 
occurs  again  with  di  Monteforte.  In  1286, 
Pope  Honorius  iv.  gave  commission  to  Simone 
da  Castel-Gandolfo,  his  chaplain,  to  examine 
the  quarrel  between  the  monks  and  Conte 
Guido  and  Contessa  Margherita  for  possession 
of  the  Castello.  The  result  of  the  lawsuit,  if  it 
is  not  clearly  on  the  side  of  the  monks  in 
temporal  affairs,  confirms  their  spiritual  jurisdic- 
tion.      Beaten    perhaps    in    the   struggle    for 


PIAN  CASTAGNAJO  131 

temporal  power,  the  monks,  Regulars  as  they 
were,  were  now  attacked  in  their  spiritual 
rule  by  the  secular  Bishop  of  Sovana.  On 
the  I  St  December  1349  a  compromise  was 
arrived  at,  the  Bishop  and  the  monks  agree- 
ing to  accept  as  arbitrator  Pietro,  pievano  of 
Proceno. 

In  the  division  of  the  Contea  Aldobrand- 
esca,  between  Aldobrandino  di  Bonifazio  of 
Santa  Fiora  and  Aldobrandino  di  Guglielmo  of 
Sovana,  which  happened  in  December  1274, 
Pian  Castagnajo  fell  to  the  share  of  the  latter. 
Later  it  passed  as  a  marriage  portion  into  the 
family  Gaetani,  who  in  13 14  granted  it  as  a 
feud  to  the  Monaldeschi  of  Orvieto,  from 
whom  it  passed,  we  know  not  how  or  why,  into 
the  possession  of  the  Piccolomini,  and  so  into 
the  power  of  the  Sienese  Republic. 

In  1352  Pian  Castagnajo  rebelled,  but  the 
Republic  sent  a  body  of  troops  thither  under 
the  command  of  Francesco  Accarigi,  who 
speedily  recovered  it.  Another  rebellion 
followed  in  1355  on  the  fall  of  the  Nove\ 
Pian  Castagnajo  being  among  the  towns  of  the 
contado  which  refused  to  obey  the  Dodici. 
It  continued  in  revolt  till  1360,  when  it  was 
reduced  by  the  Dodici  and  given  by  them  to 


132  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

the  Salimbeni — that  was  in  October  1 368,  The 
rule  of  the  Salimbeni  was,  however,  of  the 
shortest ;  for  the  Sienese  being  fully  occupied 
in  suppressing  civic  sedition,  in  the  following 
year  Niccolo  Orsini,  Count  of  Nola  and 
Captain  of  the  Papal  troops,  occupied  it  by  force 
of  arms.  The  Orsini  held  it  till  1378,  in  which 
year  they  recognised  the  suzerainty  of  Siena. 
During  the  war  with  Ladislaus  of  Naples, 
Sforza  da  Cotignola  made  himself  master  of 
Plan  Castagnajo.  The  Sienese  sent  Frances- 
chino  della  Mirandola,  their  general,  against  him, 
but  in  vain ;  because  when  he  saw  that  Sforza 
intended  to  defend  the  place,  Franceschino 
turned  back  without  attempting  anything.  As 
they  had  done  with  the  Orsini  in  1378,  so  now 
they  did  with  Franceschino  Sforza  in  1414, 
ofrantino-  him  all  the  castelli  and  the  towns  and 
villages  which  he  had  occupied  in  Val  d'Orcia 
on  condition  that  he  held  them  as  fiefs  granted 
him  by  the  Republic  and  paid  the  usual  censi. 
When  his  prestige  was  diminished  by  the  arrest 
of  his  uncle  Sforza  da  Cotignola,  the  Sienese  lost 
no  time  in  sending  Goro  Catosti  and  Andreoccio 
Mercolindi  with  an  army  to  reconquer  the 
places  which  Sforza  had  occupied.  The  city 
of  Chiusi,  the  castelli  of  Monte  Nero,  Rocca 


PIAN  CASTAGNAJO  133 

d'Orcia,  and  Monte  Giovi  submitted,  and  when 
the  army  drew  near  to  Pian  Castagnajo  the 
lieutenant  of  Sforza  at  once  capitulated  on 
receiving  the  sum  of  2000  florins. 

A  little  later,  in  14 16,  Sforza  also  consented 
to  accept  18,000  florins  for  the  abandonment  of 
his  claims  to  the  territories  thus  taken  from 
him.  So  the  inhabitants  of  Pian  Castagnajo 
returned  to  the  allegiance  of  the  Republic,  and 
remained  under  her  protection  as  accomandati 
till  1440.  In  that  year  they  decided  to  submit 
themselves  more  completely,  that  they  might 
live  with  a  securer  freedom. 

In  1 60 1,  however,  Grand  Duke  Ferdinando  i. 
gave  the  place  in  feud  to  General  Giovan 
Battista  Bourbon,  of  the  Marchesi  del  Monte, 
to  pass  to  his  descendants  in  the  male  line,  and 
in  some  sort  this  family  held  the  place  almost 
to  our  day. 

If  you  come  to  Pian  Castagnajo  by  the  old 
road  through  the  woods,  you  cross  the  Indo- 
vina,  a  dry  torrent-bed  in  summer,  but  in 
spring  generally  raging  with  the  waters  of  the 
snows,  so  that  by  this,  if  there  be  much  water 
or  little,  the  contadini  divine  the  richness  or 
poverty  of  the    harvest.     The   first  sign  that 


134  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

you  are  approaching  the  Castello  is  the  chapel 
of    Madonna    in    the   Wood,    Madonna   di    S. 
Pietro,  one  of  the  most  ancient  churches  of  the 
Mountain ;  while  if  you  come  by  the  new  road, 
you  pass  on  the  left,  half  a  mile  almost  before 
you  come  to  the  gate,  the  church  and  convent 
of  S.  Bartolommeo,  founded  originally  in   1227 
by  the  Friars  Minor,  though  not  in  this  same 
spot;  set  here,    however,  in    1278,   nearer,    as 
Wadding  tells  us,  than  the  old  convent  was  to 
the  Castello  and  under  the   patronage   of   the 
Counts  of  Pitigliano.     A  mere  ruin  now,  the 
convent  of  S.    Bartolommeo  contains  nothing 
of  interest   save   a  beautiful,    spoiled    cloister, 
while  the  church,  like  that  of  Madonna  in  the 
Wood,    is   full    of    the    improbable,    incredible 
fustian  of  to-day.     From  these   churches  it  is 
but  a  short  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the  gate  at  the 
foot  of  the  old  fortress  of  the  place,  which  bears 
still  many  a  broken  coat  of  arms,  among  them 
the   Balzana   of    Siena.       Before    this    ruined 
fortezza  on  either  side  is   a  plain,  a  piano  of 
chestnuts,  like  the  groves  of  rival  deities,  very 
still    and   solemn,   and    always    full   of   silence. 
From  the  fortress  east  and  south  the  old  walls 
of  the  Castello  still  totter  round  the  shrunken, 
precipitous    village,   in    many  a  ruined,  battle- 


PIAN  CASTAGNAJO  135 

mented   tower,    and   there,   looking   southward 
down  Val  dl  Paglia,  is  the  Porta  del  Borgo. 

It  is  not,  however,  anything  within  the 
Castello  that  will  really  interest  us,  though  the 
place  is  full  of  picturesque  corners  and  steep, 
precipitous  streets,  and  the  parish  church  of 
S.  Maria  Assunta  is  among  the  oldest  on  the 
Mountain,  but  the  palace  which  General  Giovan 
Battista  Borbone  del  Monte  built  two  years 
after  Grand  -  Duke  Ferdinand  gave  him  the 
place.  It  is  a  building  like  a  Roman  palace,  a 
Roman  palace  in  a  country  place,  without  the 
exaggeration  and  grandiosity  of  some  of  those 
great  seventeenth  -  century  houses  in  Rome. 
And  then  it  has  a  garden  too,  ruined  now, 
and  a  little  bare  and  forlorn  in  its  ruo-o-ed  wild- 
ness,  among  the  enormous  stones  that  once 
were  carved  into  a  fantastic  beauty,  hewn  into 
strange  shapes  which  the  wind  and  the  rain  are 
slowly  obliterating,  turning  what  was  once  just 
rock  back  into  rock  again.  II  Mugnello,  they 
call  the  place,  laughing  still  a  little  uncannily, 
with  so  many  waters,  waters  that  have  broken 
their  banks  and  found  new  ways  for  themselves, 
running  hither  and  thither  out  of  the  sun. 
And  long  and  long  ago  gay  with  the  del 
Monte  ladies,  in  the  beautiful   dresses  of  the 


136  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

time,  it  must  have  been  a  pleasant  place  enough, 
rivalling  certainly  the  garden  of  the  Sforza- 
Cesarini  of  Santa  Flora.  There  were  arbours 
and  grottos,  little  stairways  hewn  out  of  the 
rock,  winding  about  a  waterfall,  and  in  the 
midst  a  great  rough-hewn  fountain,  like  a  huge 
shell,  big  enough  for  all  those  ladies  to  bathe  in 
together,  as  in  the  pleasant  pages  of  Boccaccio, 
and  the  water  there  is  fresh  and  pure  and  colder 
than  chastity  herself. 

Lying  there  in  the  shadow  all  through  a 
drowsy  summer  afternoon,  one  seems  to  see 
those  dear  dead  ladies — 

"Girls  of  mild  silver  and  of  furious  gold" — 

sauntering  by,  reading,  what  but  Tasso's 
Aminta  perhaps,  or  the  immortal  Gerusale77tme 
in  the  Aldine  Edition  of  1582,  for  in  this 
country-place  we  are  still  a  little  behind  the 
times.  Messer  Lorenzo  Bartoli  from  R.ome, 
in  villegiatura  here,  seems  to  have  much  to  say 
to  the  divine  Madonna  Laura  on  that  interest- 
ing subject  of  Tasso's  immortality ;  while  not 
far  away  Madonna  Rosa  trembles  a  little, 
laughing  the  while  at  the  eager,  hot  words  of 
young  Sforza-Cesarini,  the  scapegrace;  and 
Madonna  Beatrice  gazes  a  little  pensively  from 
the   arbour,  ever   towards   Rome.     This   very 


PIAN  CASTAGNAJO  137 

morning,  it  seems,  a  wild  boar  caught  near  the 
Ermetta  has  been  taken  alive  and  brought 
into  Pian  Castagnajo,  and  this  evening  the 
gentlemen  are  to  bait  it  in  the  courtyard,  in 
honour  of  the  guest,  no  less  than  the  Grand 
Duke's  Grace  herself.  And  after  there  will  be 
a  concert,  concerto  campestre,  under  the  chest- 
nuts. Hark  !  I  can  hear  the  low  fingering  of  the 
guitar  strings,  the  golden  Beatrice  is  about  to 
sing — ah  !  that  sad  song  of  hers — 

"  Fiorin  di  grano 
Lasciatevii  contar'  chi  allegra  sono 
Ho  rifatto  la  pace  col  mio  damo" 

But  what  is  this  I  hear?  It  is  a  stornello  of 
the  Mountain, — ah !  that  has  outlived  Tasso's 
Sonnets.  I  must  have  been  really  asleep.  It 
is  a  contadina  of  the  village  who  sings,  as  she 
carries  her  snowy  linen  from  the  fountains  of 
the  del  Monte  gardens,  where  all  the  afternoon 
she  has  been  at  the  lavatoio.  It  is  already 
evening,  and  time  to  return.  As  I  follow  her 
through  the  narrow,  steep,  winding  ways,  I  turn 
at  last  at  Porta  del  Borgo  and  wait  in  the  last 
light  of  the  sunset.  Standing  there  at  evening, 
gazing  over  the  near  vineyards  and  the  woods 
to  Proceno,  to  Bolsena,  to  Monte  Cimino,  and 
Monte  Venere,  I  cannot  remember  that  1  am 


138  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

still  in  Tuscany.  There  is  a  light  on  the  hills 
that  one  may  never  see  in  any  Tuscan  land, 
a  largeness  in  the  evening  earth,  something 
passionate,  solemn,  and  splendid  in  the  gesture 
and  form  of  every  valley  and  mountain.  Do  I 
dream  still,  I  ask  myself,  or  is  there  in  that 
tawny  and  lonely  country  some  buried  greatness, 
some  unforgettable  renown  that  has  now  uttered 
in  my  heart  the  immortal  word — Rome  ? 


X 

THE  ALDOBRANDESCHI 

T~7  ARLY  on   the   next    morning    I    set   out 

-*— '     from  Pian  Castagnajo  for  Santa  Fiora. 

And  at  first  the  way  led  through  the  forest : 

then    when    it   had   left   the   Madonna  of  the 

Wood  behind,  it  came  out  suddenly  on  to  the 

hillside    towards    Castellazzara   caught    in    the 

mist,    towards     Bolsena     hidden     under     the 

morning  sun,  and  Monte   Cimino  and   Rome. 

But   it   was    not   any   ancient    splendour   that 

came  to  me,  scarcely  awake  as  yet,  weary  of 

the  waning  pride  of  the  long  summer,  but   a 

dim,    fantastic,    intricate    memory   out   of    the 

Middle   Age,   full    of  cruelty,  oppression,  and 

wrong ;    the  clash  of  iron  on  iron,  the  voices 

of    barbarian    princes.       And   yet,    who    may 

deny  the  force  and  splendour   of  the    House 

of  Aldobrandesca  ? 

Where  they  came  from,  how  and  when  they 

entered  Italy,  no  man  knows.     Perhaps    they 

139 


I40  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

were  Longobard  princes,  perhaps  they  came 
with  Charlemagne  ;  but  being  come  somehow, 
somewhen,  overwhelmed  perhaps,  as  all  the 
barbarians  have  been,  by  the  mystery  and 
beauty  of  this  land,  they  stayed  and  worked 
their  will. 

In  the  latter  half  of  the  twelfth  century, 
when  the  Communes,  free  at  last  from  the 
dominion  of  the  Bishops,  began  to  threaten 
the  feudal  barons  round  about,  the  Aldo- 
brandeschi  were  probably  the  most  powerful 
lords  in  Tuscany.  Their  dominion  included 
almost  all  Mont'  Amiata  and  its  villages,  with 
the  Maremma  to  the  south  of  Ombrone. 
Grosseto,  too,  was  theirs,  and  Campagnatico, 
and  many  another  town  and  village  to  Radi- 
condoli,  Belforte,  and  Monteguidi.  Their  boast 
was  that  they  possessed  more  fortified  places 
than  there  are  days  in  the  year,  and  there 
can  be  but  little  doubt  that  that  part  of  the 
modern  Province  of  Siena  and  Grosseto  which 
went  to  make  up  the  Contea  Aldobrandesca 
was  far  more  populous  then  than  it  is  now. 
Even  the  Maremma  was  not  in  those  days 
the  desolate  region  which  it  afterwards  became  ; 
the  wild  vines  and  olive  trees  upon  its  hills 
mark  the  spots    which    once   were   glad   with 


Ciovn/nti  del  la  Roll  in 


Piez'f,  S.  Fio}-i 


COM.MUNICATORIO 

(Almari  I 


THE  ALDOBRANDESCHI  141 

vineyards  and  olive  gardens,  while  the  desolate 
ruins  scattered  over  that  country,  the  names 
lingering  still  of  vanished  towns  and  castles, 
the  all  too  ample  space  enclosed  within  the 
walls  of  shrunken  villages,  speak  to  us  of  the 
prosperity  that  was  of  old,  the  poverty  of 
to-day.  And  truly  once  upon  a  time  Grosseto 
could  put  into  the  field  three  thousand  fighting 
men,  more  than  the  total  number  of  her  citizens 
of  both  sexes  and  all  ages  in  the  middle  of 
the  nineteenth  century.  And  in  like  manner 
Saturnia,  Sovana,  Telamone,  Ansidonia  and 
the  rest,  which  to-day  are  scarcely  more  than 
names,  were  then  little  cities  or  villages  of 
some  importance. 

The  last  of  the  Aldobrandeschi  to  rule  over 
an  undiminished  and  unbroken  state  was  Ilde- 
prando,  or  Aldobrandino,  Count  Palatine  of 
Tuscany,  who  died  in  1208.  He  left  four  sons, 
to  wit,  Aldobrandino  the  elder,  sometimes 
called  Aldobrandino  Novello,  Guglielmo,  the 
''gran  Tosco''  of  the  Divine  Comedy,  Bonifazio, 
and  Aldobrandino  the  younger.  The  first 
blow  to  their  power  had  come  from  the  east- 
ward. The  Orvietani,  like  the  Sienese,  were 
no  longer  satisfied  with  the  destruction  or 
subjection     of    the    feudal    fortresses    in    the 


142  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

immediate  neighbourhood  of  their  walls,  and 
both  Communes  realised  the  necessity  of 
humblinof  the   robber   barons    who    dominated 

o 

the  vast  tract  of  country  which  extended  from 
the  lower  reaches  of  Paglia  to  the  flanks  of 
Mont'  Amiata,  from  Argentario  to  Piombino, 
and  along  the  crest  of  the  hills  between 
Montalcino  and  Montepulciano,  embracing  the 
lovely  and  secluded  valleys  of  Merse  and 
Ombrone.  For  either  single-handed  the  task 
might  have  been  impossible,  but  their  common 
desire  to  avail  themselves  of  the  resources  of 
the  Maremma,  and  the  necessity  they  were 
in  of  protecting  and  fostering  the  commerce 
already  growing  up  between  Rome  and  them- 
selves and  Northern  Italy  along  Via  Francigena, 
induced  them,  though  Orvieto  was  Guelf  and 
Siena  Ghibelline,  to  unite  together  at  least 
for  this  end.  Accordingly,  in  1202,  they 
entered  into  an  alliance,  which  they  called 
fraternitatetn  et  unitatem,  and  which  was  sworn 
to  by  the  Podesta  and  a  thousand  of  the  citizens 
of  Orvieto  in  that  city  in  August,  and  by  the 
Consuls  and  a  thousand  of  the  citizens  of  Siena 
in  the  Church  of  S.  Cristofano  in  Siena  in 
October.  This  alliance  was  to  continue  in 
force  for  twenty  years,  and    by  its  terms  the 


THE  ALDOBRANDESCHI  143 

Commune  of  Siena  agreed  to  extend  to  the 
Orvietani  all  the  privileges  of  citizenship,  to 
exonerate  them  from  all  customs,  and,  in  the 
event  of  war,  to  place  at  their  disposal  the 
hostis  of  Siena  for  fifteen  days  once  a  year, 
and  200  milites  and  500  pedites  twice  a  year. 
These  obligations  were  of  course  reciprocal, 
the  Orvietani  promising  to  render  the  same 
services  to  the  Sienese.  In  the  followinof 
year,  however,  it  was  agreed  in  the  Church 
of  S.  Andrea  in  Orvieto,  and  in  the  Palace 
of  the  Sons  of  Pietro  di  Cittadino  Monaldeschi, 
that  the  Sienese  might  make  peace  with  Count 
Aldobrandino  at  their  good  pleasure,  but  that 
if  the  Commune  of  Orvieto  should  make  war 
on  him  for  certain  specified  reasons,  Siena 
should  do  the  like.  The  Orvietani,  too,  about 
that  time  entered  into  an  agreement  with  the 
Aldobrandeschi  which  was  confirmed  by  an 
oath  before  the  assembled  people.  The  Counts 
undertook  not  to  exact  pedagium  from  the 
citizens  within  their  Contea,  and  to  redress 
such  injuries  as  they  might  suffer  therein ; 
they  agreed  to  make  war  or  peace  at  the  will 
of  the  Magistrates  of  the  Commune,  and  to 
pay  every  Easter  a  tribute  of  130  libbre  in 
the  money  of  Siena.     Moreover,  they  paid  a 


144  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

sum  of  600  libbre  on  the  day  of  the  agreement, 
in  addition  to  500  libbre  for  property  which 
they  had  acquired  in  the  city  of  Orvieto  so 
that  they  might  be  citizens.  And  in  return 
they  were  accorded  full  citizenship.  Thus  fell 
the  barbarian  lords  before  the  Communes ;  but 
their  end  was  not  yet. 

In  1 2 12  the  tribute  was  augmented,  and  in 
October  12 13  the  men  of  Sovana,  who  had 
already  obtained  a  statutum  from  the  Counts, 
requested  and  received  permission  to  treat 
freely  with  Orvieto.  Then  in  June  12 16  they 
put  themselves  under  the  protection  of  Orvieto, 
and  agreed  that  if  the  Signori  should  fail  to 
observe  the  agreements  sworn  to  they  would 
take  up  arms  against  them  at  the  command 
of  the  Commune.  ' 

In  that  same  month  Aldobrandino  Novello, 
now  head  of  the  family,  "  desiring  to  obey 
all  the  orders  of  the  Commune  of  Orvieto," 
gave  and  granted  to  that  city  ad  faciendam 
pacem  et  guerram  et  ho  stern  et  parlamentum, 
all  the  territory  which  he  possessed  from  Mont' 
Amiata  to  the  Albenga,  with  the  district  of 
Corneto.  Thus  and  thus  the  Aldobrandeschi 
were  compelled  to  understand,  not  only  that 
their   days   as   absolute   lords   were  over,  but 


THE  ALDOBRANDESCHI  145 

that  in  less  than  fifteen  years  they  had  fallen 
from  being  allies  of  the  Communes  to  a  state 
of  vassalage.  Indeed,  every  town  and  village 
paid  a  tax  or  tribute  of  two  soldi  to  the 
Commune  for  each  family,  and  the  Count 
himself  was  obliged  to  swear  before  the  Magi- 
strates of  the  City  that  the  Commune  should 
be  his  heir  if  he  died  without  legitimate  issue. 
Strange  indeed  must  have  been  the  scene 
when  on  the  24th  June  12 16,  in  the  arid 
plain  of  Saturnia,  in  the  presence  of  the  people 
of  Orvieto,  the  haughty  Count  Palatine  was 
compelled  to  appear  humbly  before  Monaldo 
di  Pietro  Cittadini,  the  representative  of  a  new 
commercial  aristocracy.  "There  met,"  as 
Rondoni  says,  "two  generations,  two  races, 
two  histories." 

The  so  swift  ruin  of  the  Aldobrandeschi 
seems  to  have  been  largely  due  to  dissensions 
between  the  brothers,  for  in  the  same  year 
Orvieto,  now  mistress  of  the  situation,  under- 
took to  adjust  their  differences.  She  com- 
pelled Aldobrandino,  Bonifazio,  Guglielmo,  and 
Aldobrandino  the  younger  to  exchange  the  kiss 
of  peace,  and  divided  their  entire  Contea  into 
four  parts.  This  seems  to  have  made  them 
realise    their   position,  for   in    addition    to   the 


146  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

indignities  they  had  suffered  they  were  nearly 
ruined  by  the  usurious  demands  of  the  rich 
Commune.  At  last,  when  payment  was 
required,  they  retaliated  by  driving  off  cattle 
and  committing  other  thefts.  But  they  could 
not  loosen  the  grasp  which  held  them.  In 
April  and  July  12 19,  and  June  1222,  they 
were  compelled  to  enter  into  new  conventions 
with  new  guarantees,  while  finally,  in  1223 
Aldobrandino  the  elder,  Bonifazio,  and  Gug- 
lielmo  became  parties  to  a  formal  agreement 
whereby  they  undertook  to  satisfy  all  their 
obligations,  only  preserving  to  themselves  the 
right  of  trial  by  battle  ^' per  pugnam  et 
campkyones,''  in  the  case  of  such  evidence 
and  documents  as  they  should  aver  to  be 
false.  They  seem  indeed  to  have  had  no 
alternative,  since  at  the  time  of  this  convention 
Bonifazio  and  Guglielmo  were  held  captive. 
Their  only  chance  of  regaining  their  liberty 
lay  in  the  acceptance  of  any  terms  which 
might  be  offered  them.  In  November  1223 
the  Procurator  and  Syndic  of  the  Commune 
took  formal  possession  of  all  the  towns  and 
villages  which  had  been  granted  by  Aldo- 
brandino in  1 2 16. 

Throughout   all    these    difficult   transactions 


i 


Ddla  Roblna 


LA    MADONNA   DELLA    CINTOLA 

(Almari) 


Pieve,  S.  l-iotii 


THE  ALDOBRANDESCHI  147 

Orvieto  seems  to  have  been  loyal  to  her  treaty 
obligations  with  Siena,  and  indeed  as  long  as 
friendship  lasted  between  the  two  Communes 
the  Aldobrandeschi  were  between  the  upper 
and  nether  millstones.  Such  a  state  of  things, 
however,  was  not  to  continue.  From  1228  to 
1335  all  Tuscany  was  in  arms;  the  alliance 
between  Guelf  Orvieto  and  Ghibelline  Siena 
was  exchanged  for  enmity,  and  the  Aldobran- 
deschi were  able  to  recover  a  little  of  their 
former  power. 

On  the  22nd  November  1 220  Frederick  11.  had 
been  solemnly  crowned  by  Pope  Honorius  in. 
in  the  Basilica  of  S.  Peter,  and  in  1221  he  had 
confirmed  Aldobrandino  Novello  in  his  here- 
ditary dignity  of  Count  Palatine  of  Tuscany. 
In  the  same  year,  through  the  influence  of  the 
Imperial  Vicar,  Conrad,  Bishop  of  Spires,  the 
Aldobrandeschi  entered  into  an  alliance  with 
the  Sienese,  the  terms  of  which  were  equal 
and  reciprocal,  for  each  undertook  to  come 
to  the  assistance  of  other  in  case  of  war, 
with  1000  foot  and  150  knights;  but  it  was 
unequal  in  this,  to  wit,  that  the  Counts  agreed 
to  pay  to  the  Commune  an  annual  tribute  of 
twenty-five  silver  marks  and  promised  that  one 
of  them,  chosen  by  the  Podesta  or  Consuls  of 


148  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Siena,  would  reside  in  that  city  for  one  month 
in  each  year  in  time  of  peace  and  two  in  time 
of  war. 

In  their  dealings  with  Orvieto  the  Aldo- 
brandeschi  had  been  taught  a  severe  lesson ; 
they  were  most  anxious  to  remove  all  cause 
of  friction  with  the  Sienese ;  possibly  for  this 
reason  they  gave  Grosseto  her  liberty.  For 
the  inhabitants  of  that  town  adopted  a  sys- 
tematic course  of  provocation  towards  Siena, 
heaping  insults  and  injuries  upon  her  and, 
against  their  promise  {contra  promissam  Jidem) 
exacting  passagiwn  vel  maltollectwn  from  her 
citizens  who  traded  with  them.  Protest  was 
useless ;  the  Grossetani,  declaring  that  the 
Sienese  seemed  to  be  ready  rather  to  fly  than 
to  fight,  treated  all  their  complaints  and 
menaces  with  indifference. 

Now  Siena  had  long  coveted  Grosseto,  and 
the  fact  that  it  had  received  its  independence 
removed  it  from  among  those  places  which  by 
treaty  she  was  bound  not  to  annex.  On  the 
24th  August  1224,  Count  Guglielmo  undertook 
to  assist  the  Commune  in  reducing^  his  former 
subjects  to  submission,  promising  to  take  up 
his  residence  in  his  palace  in  Grosseto.  A 
few   days    later   war    was    declared    however. 


THE  ALDOBRANDESCHI  149 

"  None  ever  saw  fairer  army,"  we  read. 
"  The  shields,  the  cuirasses,  and  the  tents 
made  bright  the  whole  region  round  about, 
so  that  it  seemed  another  Paradise."  Grosseto 
was  taken  by  assault  on  the  8th  September, 
the  Birthday  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  "and 
those  who  went  out  against  it  were  thirty-one 
hundred  men,  horse  and  foot :  and  when  they 
had  returned,  for  joy  of  the  victory,  they  held 
high  festival  and  lighted  bonfires  and  closed  the 
shops  about  the  Campo," 

Notwithstanding  the  intercession  of  Count 
Guglielmo,  the  victors  imposed  hard  conditions 
of  peace.  The  Grossetani  were  compelled  to 
swear,  among  other  things,  that  they  would 
never  restore  the  walls  of  their  city  without 
the  leave  of  Siena. 

Although  outwardly  the  Aldobrandeschi 
acquiesced  in  the  action  of  the  Sienese,  they 
were  secretly  far  from  content,  and  continued 
to  cherish  a  grievance  which  they  were  only 
too  ready  to  take  vengeance  for  whenever  the 
Commune  was  in  difficulties.  Thus  in  1236 
Count  Guglielmo,  who  perhaps  had  other 
more  personal  reasons  for  hating  the  Sienese, 
not  only  appealed  to  the  Pope  to  force  them 
to  rebuild  the  walls  of  Grosseto,  but  seems  even 


I50  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

to  have  succeeded  in  procuring  their  excom- 
munication. Two  years  later  he  openly  sided 
with  their  greatest  enemies,  and  became  a 
citizen  of  Florence.  Thereupon  the  Sienese 
invaded  the  Contea  Aldobrandesca,  and  took 
Montiano,  Collecchio,  and  Magliano,  between 
Ombrone  and  Albenza ;  while,  later  on,  the 
brief  period  of  Ghibelline  domination  in 
Florence,  which  followed  the  rising  of  the 
Uberti  (20th  January  1249),  gave  them  an 
opportunity  to  deal  a  fatal  blow  to  the  power 
of  the  Aldobrandeschi. 

Already  in  1234  Siena  had  taken  Campiglia 
d'Orcia  by  storm,  leading  the  inhabitants 
prisoners  to  Siena,  and  now  in  January  1251 
she  sent  her  army  down  into  Maremma,  com- 
pelling the  Signori  of  Torniella,  Montorgiale, 
and  Cinigliano  to  renounce  their  allegiance  to 
the  Counts  and  to  accept  the  suzerainty  of  the 
Commune.  With  Montiano,  Magliano,  and 
Collecchio  in  her  hands  she  thus  possessed  a 
line  of  fortresses  from  Siena  to  Telamone,  which, 
beside  securing  to  her  the  sea-coast  from 
Castiglione  to  Monte  Argentario,  cut  off  the 
Aldobrandeschi  from  their  lands  and  vassals 
beyond  the  Ombrone.  She  next  ascended  Val 
d'Orcia   and    seized    Castiglione    d'Orcia    and 


THE  ALDOBRANDESCHI  151 

Selvena,  thereby  placing  herself  in  a  position 
to  overrun  at  any  moment  the  whole  Contea 
Aldobrandesca.  To  escape  worse  evils  Aldo- 
brandino  of  Santa  Flora,  the  son  of  Count 
Bonifazio,  hastened  to  Siena  and  sued  for 
peace,  obtaining  conditions  which  were  not 
too  grievous. 

Meantime,  however,  while  the  Sienese 
troops  were  yet  in  the  Maremma,  the  Guelf 
exiles  returned  to  Florence,  and  in  March 
Count  Guglielmo  and  his  sons  Aldobrandino 
"  the  Red,"  and  Omberto  of  Campagnatico 
renewed  upon  oath  the  convention  of  1203 
with  the  Commune  of  Orvieto,  promising  to 
observe  all  the  promises  he  had  there  made, 
save,  of  course,  "to  reverence  and  honour  the 
Commune  of  Siena."  In  April  they  entered 
into  a  fresh  convention  with  Florence,  whereby 
they  granted  her  the  use  of  their  ports  and 
especially  Telamone  and  Port'  Ercole. 

This  treaty  was  a  great  source  of  danger  to 
Siena.  Already  by  the  submission  of  12 16 
Orvieto  had  acquired  suzerainty  over  the 
valley  of  Albenga ;  and  now,  if  Florence  were 
permitted  to  obtain  free  access  to  Telamone  or 
Port'  Ercole  a  few  years  would  probably  see 
her  mistress  of  the  Maremma  ;  Grosseto  would 


152  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

be  lost,  and  Siena  must  from  thenceforward  be 
contented  to  become  an  inland  state  hemmed 
in  on  every  side  by  the  territories  of  her 
bitterest  foes.  War  followed,  and,  as  in  1229, 
the  whole  of  Tuscany  was  divided  into  two 
hostile  camps.  Success  crowned  the  arms  of 
Florence,  and  the  Sienese  contado  was  de- 
vastated up  to  the  very  gates  of  the  city,  but 
the  Florentines  seem  to  have  abandoned  their 
designs  upon  Telamone,  and  although  Campiglia 
was  restored  to  the  Visconti,  and  other  fortresses 
to  other  Signori,  the  peace  of  1254  left  the 
Aldobrandeschi  still  shorn  of  much  of  their 
former  strength.  Count  Guglielmo  seems  to 
have  died  early  in  the  following  year. 

Hardly  had  hostilities  ceased,  however, 
when  the  Sienese  wished  to  take  vengeance 
on  those  who,  whether  in  Maremma  or  in  the 
mountains,  had  taken  the  part  of  the  Aldo- 
brandeschi against  them.  They  besieged  and 
took  Pian  Castagnajo ;  they  compelled  the 
Signori  of  Monte  Orsaia,  of  Fornoli,  and  of 
Cinigliano,  to  make  submission  to  the  Republic, 
and  the  lords  of  Torniella,  having  revolted, 
they  stormed  and  destroyed  their  fortress, 
carrying  such  of  them  as  were  not  slain 
prisoners  to  Siena.     The   populace  clamoured 


THE  ALDOBRANDESCHI  153 

for  revenge,  and  in  the  Consiglio  delta  Campana 
of  the  30th  August  1255  demanded  that  the 
hands  and  feet  of  the  rebels  should  be  cut  off 
and  their  eyes  torn  out.  The  aristocrats  of  the 
Assembly  resisted,  but  the  people  were  un- 
willing to  yield,  and  the  discussion  turned  upon 
the  question  whether  the  Torniellesi  should  lose 
one  eye  or  both,  one  hand  or  both,  or  whether 
it  would  not  be  better  to  hang  them  all  out 
of  hand  and  so  finish  the  business.  Finally, 
milder  counsels  prevailed,  but  not  from  any 
lack  of  savagery  on  the  part  of  the  Popolani, 
for  whom  the  mangling  of  those  luckless 
gentlemen  would  have  been  a  pleasant  holiday 
diversion. 

The  Aldobrandeschi  were  naturally  not 
unmoved  spectators  of  these  proceedings. 
The  increasing  power  of  the  Commune  in  the 
Maremma  was  a  distinct  menace  to  their 
power,  and  in  spite  of  the  stipulations  of  the 
Peace  they  believed  that  they  had  good  cause 
for  apprehension.  Therefore  they  applied  to 
the  Florentines,  and  through  them  demanded 
of  the  Sienese  whether  they  entertained  any 
hostile  intentions  against  the  sons  of  Count 
Guglielmo  or  against  their  dominion.  On  the 
4th  September  1255  the  Sienese  replied  in  the 


154  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

negative,  and  then  on  the  5th  of  February 
following,  GrazianOj/z/rt'i^^i:  and  ambassador  for 
the  Commune  of  Siena,  demanded  of  the  noble 
Counts  Omberto  and  Aldobrandino,  sons  of 
the  late  Count  Guglielmo,  whether  they  were 
willing  to  abide  by  and  observe  the  terms  of 
the  Peace  made  with  the  Sienese  by  the 
Commune  of  Florence,  for  herself  and  for 
them ;  and  they  answered.  Yes,  they  were. 
But  mutual  suspicions  did  not  cease  for  all  that. 
In  the  following  year  Aldobrandino  of  Santa 
Flora  thought  it  safer  to  disassociate  himself 
from  his  kinsmen  and  to  enter  into  negotiations 
for  a  separate  peace,  renewing  the  submission 
of  1 25 1.  To  him  on  the  25th  of  December 
1256  the  Commune  sent  ambassadors,  to 
confer  and  to  negotiate  with  him.  The 
ambassadors,  however,  were  unable  to  perform 
their  errand,  for  Omberto,  who  was  bitterly 
opposed  to  his  cousin's  action,  and  regarded 
any  conventions  and  agreements  to  the 
advantage  of  the  Commune  as  a  means  of 
despoiling  him  and  his  family  of  their  here- 
ditary dominions,  laid  an  ambush  for  the  envoys 
and  cast  them  into  prison,  absolutely  refusing 
to  give  them  up  unless,  and  until,  the  Commune 
should  set  the  sons  of  Ranieri  da  Torniella  at 


THE  ALDOBRANDESCHI  155 

liberty.  Before  openly  treating  with  him  the 
Sienese,  mindful  of  the  peace  sworn,  sent 
ambassadors  to  Florence,  Perugia,  Orvieto, 
and  Viterbo,  to  make  formal  complaint  touching 
the  injuries  done  them,  and  especially  to  lay 
stress  upon  the  very  grievous  wrong  involved 
in  laying  hands  upon  the  sacred  persons  of 
ambassadors.  Moreover,  they  pointed  out  that, 
by  reason  of  the  robberies  of  the  Count,  the 
road  to  Maremma  was  so  dangerous  as  to  be 
indeed  useless.  Their  representations,  how- 
ever, produced  no  effect,  and  Omberto  con- 
tinued in  his  lawless  ways  contra  Deum  et 
institiam,  until  at  last  their  patience  was 
altogether  exhausted  and  they  resolved  to 
abate  him  as  a  common  nuisance.  His  end 
is  recorded  by  Dante  in  the  eleventh  canto  of 
the  Purgatorio — 

"  lo  fui  latino,  e  nato  d'un  gran  Tosco  ! 
Guglielmo  Aldobrandesco  fu  mio  padre  : 
Non  so  se  il  nome  suo  giammai  fu  vosco. 
L'antico  sangue  e  I'opere  leggiadre 
De'  miei  maggior'  mi  fer  si  arrogante 
Che,  non  pensando  alia  commune  madre 
Ogni  uomo  ebbi  in  dispetto  tanto  avante 
Ch'io  ne  mori',  come  i  Sanesi  sanno 
E  sallo  in  Campagnatico  ogni  fanti 
lo  sono  Omberto  .  .  ." 

As  to  the  precise  manner  of  his  death  there 
are  many  different  legends,  for  the  facts  (once 


156  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

so  well  known  that  doubtless  the  allusion  of 
the  poet  was  perfectly  clear  to  his  contem- 
poraries) were  soon  forgotten ;  and  to-day, 
indeed,  we  cannot  be  certain  whether  he  died 
miserably  suffocated  in  his  bed  at  the  hands  of 
hireling  murderers,  or  fighting,  sword  in  hand, 
as  became  a  gallant  knight.  And  even  as 
Omberto  is  now  but  a  dim  memory,  so  it  has 
fared  too  with  the  ancient  Campagnatico  where 
he  died.  A  tower  worn  by  age,  masses  of 
blackened  stones  and  ruined  walls  which  the 
ivy  has  covered  with  its  darkness,  are  all  that 
remain  to  us  from  the  Middle  Age  of  its  strong 
fortress  and  its  battlemented  keep. 

Although  Count  Aldobrandino  of  Santa 
Fiora  and  his  cousin  had  been  far  from  friends, 
none  the  less  he  resented  the  violence  of  his 
end,  and  for  the  moment,  at  any  rate,  his  rela- 
tions with  the  Sienese  were  strained  almost 
to  breaking  point.  Later,  however.  King 
Manfred  reconciled  him  with  the  Commune, 
so  that  we  find  him  commanding  the  milites 
of  Siena  at  the  battle  of  Monteaperto,  where 
his  valour  and  address  seem  to  have  helped 
in  no  small  degree  to  win  that  victory  for  the 
Ghibellines.  Nor  are  the  Sienese  Chroniclers 
grudging  in  their  praise — 


S^^^?^^?^!^!'^5'5B^S:lt^5T^^*?^*'???°^ 


IN   S.    FIORA   OF   THK   ALDOBRANDKSCHl 


THE  ALDOBRANDESCHI  157 

"  Then  came  the  gallant  Count  Aldobran- 
dino,"  says  one  of  them,  "with  the  standard 
bearers  and  all  the  people  of  Siena,  shouting 
with  one  voice  :  Alia  morte !  Alia  morte ! 
The  first  to  meet  Count  Aldobrandino  was  the 
Captain  of  the  Orvietani,  whose  name  was 
Messer  Sinibaldo  Rubbini,  a  man  of  great 
puissance,  but  it  availed  him  nothing  that  day 
against  the  Captain  of  the  Sienese,  for  the 
Count  Aldobrandino  thrust  him  through  with 
his  lance  throug-h  all  his  armour  so  that  it 
passed  out  behind  between  his  shoulders  :  and 
hurled  him  to  the  earth  from  off  his  horse,  dead. 
Then  he  took  his  sword  in  his  two  hands,  and 
a  sad  man  was  he  who  waited  his  coming  for 
his  days  on  earth  were  ended.  And  so  great 
was  the  fury  of  his  onset  that  he  who  stayed  for 
one  of  his  blows  had  no  need  of  another,  nor 
did  he  seek  a  leech  to  heal  him,  for  from  one 
he  lopped  off  an  arm  and  from  another  his  head, 
and  so  it  befel  all  who  came  within  his  reach." 

Yet  notwithstanding  his  splendid  services  on 
the  most  glorious  day  in  Sienese  history,  the 
Commune  had  no  mind  to  loose  the  bands 
with  which  they  had  bound  him.  For  them 
the  feudal  nobles  were  fierce  hounds  to  be  held 
in  leash,  falcons  only  to  be  unhooded  when  the 


158  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

quarry  was  in  sight.  So  on  the  28th  October 
1 26 1,  at  the  Bagni  di  Vignone,  they  compelled 
the  Count  to  renew  his  submission  of  125 1,  and 
to  promise  to  pay  all  arrears  of  tribute  and  all 
the  debts  which  he  had  incurred  in  Siena.  He 
further  promised  to  finish  the  palace  he  had 
begun  to  build  on  Poggio  de'  Malavolti,  and  to 
reside  there  for  the  period  agreed  upon  in  each 
year. 

In  1274  the  Contea  Aldobrandesca  was 
divided  between  the  cousins,  and  henceforward 
Aldobrandino,  the  son  of  Bonifazio,  ruled  in 
Mont'  Amiata  with  Santa  Flora  as  his  capital, 
and  Aldobrandino,  "  the  Red,"  in  Maremma. 
The  latter  House  soon  became  extinct ;  as  I  have 
said,  he  left  one  daughter,  whom  he  gave  in 
marriage  to  that  Guy  de  Montfort  who  in  1271 

"fesse  in  grembo  a  Dio 
Lo  cor  che  in  sul  Tamigi  ancor  si  cola." 

{Infertio,  xii.  1 19-120.) 

After  the  death  of  her  father  and  husband 
Margherita  ruled  alone,  with  the  title  of 
Countess  Palatine.  Although  her  capital  was 
Sovana  she  seems  generally  to  have  resided 
at  Saturnia.  Her  daughter  Anastasia  married 
Guido  degli  Orsini. 


THE  ALDOBRANDESCHI  159 

The  Aldobrandeschi  of  Santa  Flora,  however, 
flourished  for  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty 
years,  and  continued  to  be  a  thorn  in  the  side 
of  the  Sienese  for  the  greater  part  of  the 
fourteenth  century.  Their  loyalty  to  the 
Commune,  never  very  enthusiastic  we  may 
think,  ceased  altogether  with  its  abandonment 
of  the  Ghibelline  cause,  and  Santa  Fiora  became 
a  typical  home  of  feudal  lawlessness.  From 
1280  to  1300,  and  again  in  1331,  the  Counts 
were  at  war  with  Siena ;  and  with  Ghinozzo 
da  Sassoforte  from  1328  to  1330. 

Count  Jacomo  when  he  died  at  Santa 
Fiora  in  1 346  bequeathed,  Andrea  Dei  tells  us, 
all  his  goods  to  the  Commune  of  Siena  ;  "and 
this  he  did  because  he  said  that  all  which  he 
possessed,  or  the  greater  part  thereof,  he  had 
taken  and  robbed  in  the  contado  of  Siena,  and 
he  had  given  asylum  in  his  dominions  to  those 
who  had  robbed  the  contado  of  Siena  and  the 
citizens  of  Siena."  Such  facts  enable  us  to 
understand  the  meaning  of  Dante's  despairing 
appeal  to  '*  German  Albert " — 

"Vien'  crudel  vieni,  e  vedi  la  pressura 
De'  tuoi  gentili,  e  cura  lor  magagne 
E  vedrai  Santafior  com'  e  sicura." 

{Purgatorio^  vi.  109-111). 

Indeed  the  strong  fortress  of  Santa  Fiora  was 


i6o  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

filled  with  outlaws,  bloody  and  violent  men 
who  acknowledged  no  law  whether  human  or 
divine  save  only  the  commandment  of  their 
lord.  Who  can  forg-et  the  terrible  leg^end  of 
Giovagnolo,  that  brutal  retainer  of  the  Aldo- 
brandeschi,  who  caused  an  hundred  prisoners 
at  one  time  to  be  slain  by  a  weak  old  man, 
leading  them  to  their  death  one  after  another 
with  their  hands  tied  behind  their  backs  so 
that  he  might  better  feast  his  eyes  upon  their 
agony  and  fear.  Was  it  not  this  cruelty  which, 
as  the  pious  old  Sienese  monk  says,  was  the 
cause  of  the  downfall  of  that  proud  House  ? 

The  end  of  Giovagnolo  was  worthy  of  his 
life,  for  even  on  his  deathbed  he  steadfastly 
refused  to  bow  his  brute  neck  to  God  Himself, 
declaring  with  his  latest  breath  that  he  was 
minded  if  he  recovered  to  be  revenged  upon 
such  of  his  enemies  as  were  yet  alive.  Mr. 
Heywood  translates  the  sorry  tale  with  a  true 
feeling  for  the  indomitable  pluck  and  persist- 
ence of  this  devil  in  his  Ensamples  of  Fra 
Filippo.  For  "  when  the  Prior  of  the  Place 
came  to  him  to  confess  him  he  said  that  he 
desired  not  to  confess  because  he  had  com- 
mitted so  many  sins  that  God  would  never 
pardon  him,  and  also  because  he  had  committed 


THE    PESCHIEKA,   S.    FIORA 


THE  ALDOBRANDESCHI  i6i 

many  sins  of  which  he  could  never  repent.  .  .  . 
*  Also  (said  he)  I  have  so  many  enemies  in  the 
other  life  who  will  rise  up  against  me  that,  if 
God  desired  to  pardon  me,  it  would  be  almost 
beyond  His  power  to  do  so.  For  of  a  truth 
three  mules  would  not  suffice  to  carry  the 
hoods  alone  of  the  men  whom  I  have  slain. 
Think  you  then  how  could  I  make  my  peace 
with  Him?  I  know  that  He  would  never 
receive  me  into  His  mercy,  nor  am  I  willing  so 
to  abase  myself  as  to  show  myself  fearful  of 
Him.  Well  I  wot  that  He  would  never  trust 
Himself  in  my  hands  ;  much  less  would  I  trust 
myself  in  His.'  And  after  this  manner,  with 
these  and  other  like  desperate  words,  he 
declared  that  he  would  in  no  wise  confess. 
Very  much  did  the  Confessor  speak  to  him 
of  the  immeasurable  mercy  of  God,  of  the  glory 
of  the  blessed  and  of  the  tortures  of  the 
damned ;  and  his  wife  likewise  and  other 
friends  of  his  that  were  there  besought  him  to 
confess  and  to  prepare  his  soul ;  but  they  could 
not  change  his  accursed  determination.  And 
even  as  the  heart  of  Pharaoh  was  hardened, 
so  did  his  heart  grow  harder.  And  ever  he 
spoke  desperate  words  whereby  he  deemed 
that  he  convinced  every  man  that  in  reason  he 


1 62  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

ought  neither  to  confess  nor  to  make  his  peace 
with  God  and  with  the  saints.  .  .  .  And  so 
that  wretched  soul  passed  from  this  life. 

"  Now  when  he  was  dead,  the  Counts  desired 
that  he  should  be  buried  in  the  Church  of  the 
Friars  of  S.  Agostino,  hard  by  their  own 
sepulchre,  for  they  had  loved  him  well.  There- 
upon the  Friars  offered  many  excuses  to  the 
end  that  they  might  not  be  compelled  to  bury 
him  either  in  their  church  or  in  any  part  of  the 
place ;  saying  that  he  had  been  a  devil  in 
human  form,  and  that  his  body  ought  to  be 
buried  in  a  ditch  with  dogs  and  not  with  men. 
But  the  Counts,  who  had  built  that  church  from 
its  foundations,  were  determined  that  in  spite 
of  everything  the  corpse  should  be  buried  in 
the  church.  Wherefore  the  Friars,  fearing  the 
Counts  more  than  God,  consented  to  that 
which  the  Counts  willed.  And,  that  accursed 
body  having  been  buried  in  the  church,  for 
three  nights  thereafter  there  was  in  the  church 
such  tumult  and  tempest  that  not  only  among 
the  Friars  but  also  among  those  who  dwelt  round 
about  no  man  might  close  his  eyes  to  sleep, 
because  it  seemed  that  the  church  was  full  of 
devils,  as  in  good  sooth  it  was.  And  anon 
they  seemed  knights  who  jousted  ;  anon  men 


THE  ALDOBRANDESCHI  163 

who  fought  sword  in  hand  ;  and  anon  very 
fierce  beasts  madly  hurthng  together  with 
dolorous  bellowings.  And  so  for  three  whole 
nights  that  tempest  ceased  not  in  the  church  ; 
and  at  noontide  also  these  sounds  were  heard, 
but  not  so  loudly.  And  not  only  did  no  man 
dare  to  enter  the  church  during  those  three 
nights,  but  also,  for  divers  months  thereafter 
no  man  dared  to  enter  therein  unless  he  had 
been  assoiled  and  was  in  good  company.  On 
the  third  day  the  Friars,  with  certain  laymen, 
confessed  and  prepared  in  their  souls,  went  to 
the  church  and  dug  up  that  accursed  body  and 
buried  it  in  the  garden  beside  the  river  ;  where- 
upon that  tumult  ceased  and  was  no  more 
heard." 

Such  were  the  men  who  harried  Mont' 
Amiata  from  end  to  end,  and  it  was  not  the 
highways  only  that  were  insecure  because  of 
them,  but  the  less  strongly  fortified  villages  too 
— these  were  sacked  and  held  to  ransom,  crops 
were  cut  down  and  cattle  driven  off.  Even 
the  monks  of  Abbadia  did  not  escape  their 
violence.  And  for  this  cause  in  October  1346 
the  Abbot  "  in  the  Consiglio  della  Campana  of 
the  Commune  consigned  and  gave  the  Castello 
deir  Abbadia,"  as  Andrea  Dei  reminds  us,  "to 


1 64  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

the  Commune  of  Siena  because  he  was  expelled 
from  his  Monastery  by  the  sons  of  Count  Arrigo 
of  Santa  Fiorawho  held  the  said  Castello." 

But  desperate  as  was  the  condition  of  Mont' 
Amiata  during  the  latter  part  of  the  thirteenth 
century  and  the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth, 
matters  gradually  improved  ;  and  it  might  seem 
just  possible  that  the  subjects  of  the  Counts  had 
no  great  reason  to  envy  their  neighbours,  for  it 
may  well  be  doubted  if  the  rural  population  was 
in  fact  any  better  off  under  the  Communes  than 
under  the  feudal  lords.  Indeed  the  whole 
policy  of  the  Communes  towards  the  country 
districts  was  one  of  ruthless  exploitation  for  the 
benefit  of  the  cities,  and  inevitably  resulted,  as 
the  same  policy  has  done  in  our  own  country, 
in  the  depopulation  of  the  former. 

The  Aldobrandeschi  House  came  to  an  end 
with  Count  Guido,  who  died  early  in  the 
fifteenth  century  without  male  issue.  He  left 
three  daughters ;  the  eldest  of  these,  Donna 
Cecilia,  married  Bosio,  son  of  Muzio  Sforza 
Attendola  da  Cotignola,  of  whom  more  pres- 
ently. 


XI 

SANTA  FIORA 

A  S  you  come  to  Santa  Fiora  to-day  from 
-^^-  Pian  Castagnajo  or  Arcidosso  by  the 
great  winding  road  which  girdles  the  whole 
Mountain,  you  see  it,  impregnable  as  it  might 
seem,  still  towering  over  the  vallev  of  the  Fiora. 
And,  indeed,  to  reach  it  you  must  leave  the 
highway  and  scramble  down  a  steep,  rough 
road  that  enters  the  Castello  at  last  only 
through  the  courtyard  of  its  Signori,  passing,  as 
you  must,  under  the  palace  of  the  Cesarini,  the 
successors  of  the  Sforza,  who  in  the  fifteenth 
century  entered  into  the  Aldobrandeschi  lord- 
ship. Gazing  on  the  place,  on  the  Rocca  itself, 
thus,  from  the  head  of  this  violent  approach, 
little  or  nothinor  mi^ht  seem  to  be  left  of  the 
Aldobrandeschi  Rocca  save  an  old  tower  rising 
high  above  the  modern  palace — a  building  of 
the    Cesarini    in    the    seventeenth    century — 

dominating  everything  even  yet  in  a  fierce  and 

165 


1 66  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

ruthless  gesture  of  cruelty  and  scorn.  It  is 
under  the  turret  of  this  tower,  through  the  iron 
gateway  of  the  fortress  of  its  lords,  that  you 
enter  or  leave  Santa  Fiora  even  to-day,  so 
impregnable  is  it,  and  Dante's  words  are  then 
never  far  from  your  mind — 

"  Vedrai  Santa  Fior  com'  b  sicura." 

Once  within  the  walls,  having  passed  under 
the  gateway  where  the  old  guard  used  to  sit, 
that  devil  Giovagnolo  among  them,  you  come 
into  the  great  Piazza  spread  out  before  the 
palace,  overlooked  and  dominated  by  it,  its 
ironed  windows  gazing  a  little  cynically,  perhaps, 
all  day  long  upon  that  emptiness  where  all  men 
passed  shyly  and  with  a  certain  quickening  of 
the  heart.  From  there  the  village  of  Santa 
Fiora  drops  away  suddenly  down  the  hillside, 
as  though  in  hiding,  every  byway  and  street 
thence  leading  downward  over  the  abrupt  brow 
of  the  hill.  And,  indeed,  all  these  downward- 
sloping  streets,  broken  continually  by  flights  of 
steps,  turning  suddenly  on  themselves,  afford 
many  a  view  of  the  little  place,  its  ancient 
houses  and  churches,  SS.  Fiora  and  Lucilla,  S. 
Chiara,  the  suppressed  convent  of  S.  Agostino, 
where  Giovagnolo  was  buried  and  so  soon  dug 
up  and  buried  again  "  in  the  garden  by  the  river." 


ROCCA   OF   S.   FIORA,  FROM   WITHIN 


SANTA  FIORA  167 

And  truly  it  is  to  that  garden  by  the  river 
you  find  yourself  turning  at  every  hour  of  the 
day  in  Santa  Flora. 

Just  without  the  Castello,  towards  Arcidosso, 
but  in  the  valley  far  under  the  road,  this  garden 
lies  full  of  shadows  and  a  strange  deep  silence 
only  broken  by  the  bubbling  of  the  waters  that 
flow  through  the  little  gates  of  the  fishpond  to 
the  river  Flora  herself,  "brawling  her  violent 
way  to  the  sea,"  through  a  narrow,  burnt, 
deserted  valley  that  opens  before  the  town. 
There,  under  the  trees,  are  the  beautiful  fish- 
ponds, full  of  trout  too,  of  the  Cesarini,  the 
overgrown  byways  of  what  was  once  a  garden, 
but  is  now  almost  a  wood,  thick  with  creepers 
and  wild-flowers,  and  pleasant,  even  on  the 
hottest  day,  with  the  remembrance  of  rain. 
Lying  there  in  the  endless  summer  afternoon, 
your  thoughts  turn  again  to  the  story  of  the 
lords  of  this  place,  those  Aldobrandeschi  who 
left  their  honour  and  fortune  at  last,  perforce,  in 
the  hands  of  a  woman.  Her  name  was  Cecilia, 
heiress  of  Santa  Flora,  and  she  married  Bosio, 
brother  of  the  great  Francesco  Sforza,  and 
their  son  was  that  Francesco  who,  at  the  Court 
of  Pope  Alexander  vi.,  was  Orator  of  Milan. 
Thus     the     Sforza     came    to     Santa     Flora. 


1 68  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Wanderine  in  the  late  afternoon  about  the 
Castello,  I  came,  in  the  Church  of  S.  Fiora 
herself,  upon  their  Blazon,  the  Lion  rampant, 
with  the  Holy  Flower  of  the  Quince  for  Santa 
Fiora,  but  that  shield  was  quartered  with  the 
arms  of  the  Cesarini,  their  successors,  that 
chequered  Eagle  which  hovers  there  still,  even 
to  this  day. 

The  Cesarini,  who  succeeded  to  the  Sforza 
in  this  feud  in  the  seventeenth  century,  were  a 
Roman  House  of  great  wealth  and  distinction, 
claiming  Caesarian  origin.  They  were  allied 
with  Pope  Alexander  vi.  by  the  marriage  in 
1482  of  the  Pope's  bastard  Madonna  Giroloma 
Borofia  with  Don  Giovandrea  Cesarini.  The 
head  of  the  family  at  that  time  was  Don 
Gabriele  Cesarini,  Gonfaloniere  of  Rome ;  his 
heir,  Don  Giangiorgio  Cesarini,  was  already 
allied  with  the  Sforza  by  marriage  with  Donna 
Maria  Sforza  di  Guido  di  Santa  Fiora. 

The  Cesarini,  however,  seem  to  have  left  but 
little  mark  upon  the  place.  It  is  true  that  the 
present  Palace  is  of  their  time,  but  the  churches 
of  the  place,  filled  though  they  be  with  beauti- 
ful things,  owe  them  not  to  the  House  of 
Cesarini,  but  to  Bosio,  the  first  of  the  Sforza 
counts. 


Giovanni  dclla  Rol'tu 


FONT 

(Ahmiri) 


Picve,  S.  Fioj-a 


SANTA  FIORA  169 

S.  Fiora  e  S.  Lucilla,  the  parish  church, 
closes  a  little  Piazza  on  one  of  the  rare  spaces 
of  level  ground  in  the  Castello.  Here,  in  this 
humble  village  church,  under  the  shadow  of  the 
Aldobrandeschi  tower,  Andrea  and  Giovanni 
della  Robbia  and  their  pupils  have  left  some 
of  the  delightful  work  which  is  the  sunshine  of 
the  churches  of  Italy.  And,  indeed,  what  other 
village  in  all  Italy  is  so  rich  in  those  beautiful 
blue  and  white  terra-cottas  ?  Under  a  round 
arch,  set  all  with  cool  leaves  and  fruit,  just 
within  the  door,  is  the  Renaissance  font ;  and 
over,  set  there  by  Giovanni,  and  indeed  it  is 
one  of  his  finest  works,  the  Baptism  of  Christ 
Himself,  two  Angels  waiting  eagerly  beside 
Him,  as  with  folded,  delicate  hands  He  stands 
in  the  waters  of  Jordan,  while  John  Baptist, 
clothed  in  camel's  hair,  pours  the  water  from  a 
shell  on  to  his  forehead,  and,  above,  the  Dove 
hovers  between  the  outstretched  hands  of  God 
over  the  Beloved  Son. 

Half-way  down  the  nave  is  the  pulpit, 
covered  on  three  sides  with  the  work  of  the 
della  Robbia  School :  in  the  midst  is  the  Last 
Supper,  where  Our  Lord  communicates  him 
who  will  betray  Him,  while  S.  John  sleeps 
on  His  bosom,  His  arm  about  him,   S.   Peter 


I70  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

looks  on,  a  little  puzzled,  and  S.  James, 
perhaps,  hides  his  face.  Then  on  the  one  side 
we  see  the  Resurrection,  where,  between  four 
watching,  adoring  Angels,  Christ  rises  from  the 
tomb,  beside  which  the  Roman  soldiers  (and 
these  perhaps  were  portraits)  lie  sleeping  in 
the  dawn  ;  and  on  the  other  side,  Christ  ascends 
into  heaven,  while  Madonna  and  the  Apostles 
look  sorrowfully  into  the  sky,  whence  He 
blesses  them. 

Nor  are  these  beautiful  things  the  only  work 
of  that  famous  school  in  the  church.  Not  far 
away  is  the  Coi7tunicatorio  which  Giovanni 
made,  where  God  the  Father,  crowned  among 
the  Cherubim,  blesses  the  consecrated  Host, 
worshipped  by  two  Angels  leaning  over  the 
door  of  the  Tabernacle.  Two  other  altar- 
pieces,  mere  copies — spoiled  copies  too — of 
Andrea's  most  famous  works,  stand  over  two 
altars  in  the  aisles.  The  one,  in  which  we  see  the 
Assumption  of  Our  Lady,  while  under,  in  three 
little  panels,  we  find  Christ  among  the  Doctors, 
His  Baptism  and  Deposition  from  the  Cross  is, 
a  replica  of  Andrea's  work  at  La  Verna.  Is  it 
a  replica  of  Andrea's  work  we  see,  or  only  of 
the  Foiano  copy  of  the  La  Verna  altar-piece 
made  by   his   pupils }     At   least   there   might 


J 


SANTA  FIORA  171 

seem  to  be  but  little  of  Andrea's  own  design 
left  in  this  adaptation,  and  though  the  principal 
figures  certainly  seem  to  be  the  work  of 
Giovanni  della  Robbia,  and,  as  has  been  pointed 
out,  his  influence  is  felt  at  least  in  the  innova- 
tion of  statuettes  in  the  pilasters  and  crowded 
predella  scenes,  most  of  the  execution  is  not 
exquisite  enough  to  be  from  his  hand,  and 
must  be  called  school  work. 

It  is  again  a  copy  of  Andrea's  work  we  see 
in  the  altar-piece  in  three  parts  of  the  Corona- 
tion of  Our  Lady,  with  S.  Francis  receiving 
the  Stigmata  on  one  side,  and  S.  Jerome  in 
the  wilderness  on  the  other  ;  while  under  are 
the  Annunciation,  the  Adoration  of  the  Shep- 
herds, and  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi.  The 
entire  work  is  indeed  a  copy  of  Andrea's 
beautiful  work  at  S.  Maria  degli  Angeli  at 
Assisi,  but  the  altar  here  was  broader,  and 
each  scene  was  therefore  made  larger  to  fit  it  ; 
the  result  is  rather  a  failure,  for  the  focus  has 
been  lost,  and  the  whole  composition  suffers 
from  a  certain  flatness  and  want  of  proportion, 
especially  in  the  predella  scenes. 

One  wanders  from  the  convent  of  S.  Chiara, 
founded  in  1600  by  the  Countess  Eleanora, 
daughter  of  Giovanni  Orsini  and  wife  of  Count 


172  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Alessandro  Sforza,  Duke  of  Segni,  where  the 
Counts  Sforza-Cesarini  lie  buried,  to  S. 
Agostino  where  Giovagnolo  was  buried,  and 
where  that  tumult  of  devils  caused  his  dis- 
interment ;  and  then,  if  one  has  time,  it  is 
delightful  to  pass  by  that  stony  way  beside  the 
Fiora  in  the  valley  to  the  Convent  of  S.  Trinita 
on  Monte  Calvo,  the  convent  in  the  wood — la 
Selva  as  they  call  the  place — some  three  miles 
from  Santa  Fiora. 

Indeed,  you  may  drive  perhaps  half  the  way, 
but  not  many  pass  by,  and  the  torrents  of 
winter  and  spring,  brawling  down  the  northern 
slope  of  Monte  Calvo  into  the  Fiora,  have  made 
the  road,  strewn  with  their  stones  and  refuse, 
impassable  by  any  wheeled  traffic,  and  it  is 
only  after  a  somewhat  rough  but  very  beautiful 
walk,  passing  at  first  through  the  rocky  valley, 
and  then  climbing  slowly  the  steep  way  to  the 
wood  on  the  hillside  to  the  convent  in  the 
wood,  that  you  may  reach  that  lovely  hidden 
place,  so  quiet  and  cool  under  the  trees. 
It  was  evening  as  I  returned  on  my  mule  from 
a  long  day  in  the  mountains,  that  passing  in 
the  twilight  along  that  stony  road,  a  little  fear- 
ful in  my  heart,  perhaps,  of  '*  what  men  might 
do  to  me,"  that   in   a   moment,    between  two 


Delia  Rol'bia  -^'"'"'.  -'>"■  -^''"■« 

THE    RESURRECTION.     DETAIL   OK    PUEPIT 

(AUnari) 


SANTA  FIORA  173 

heart  beats,  I  heard  those  soft  bells  suddenly 
ringing  the  Angelus.  For  many  days  I  could 
not  forget  the  sound,  till  one  hot  afternoon  it 
seemed  to  me  that  I  must  seek  out  that  place, 
hidden  among  trees  on  the  hillside,  and  yet  so 
full  of  reassurance  to  those  who  pass  by. 

The  sun  lay  on  the  world  like  a  precious 
burden,  the  way  was  difficult,  without  the 
shade  of  trees  or  any  respite  from  the  heat. 
And,  indeed,  as  I  entered  the  woods  at  last 
and  flung  myself  on  the  ground  under  the 
chestnuts,  even  I,  who  have  loved  the  sun 
above  all  other  things  which  God  has  made, 
was  beaten  at  last,  and  in  my  head  there  shone 
a  blood-red  vision  as  of  the  Host  in  a  mon- 
strance of  gold,  before  which  I  reeled  in  a  kind 
of  exhausted  ecstasy.  When  at  last  I  came  to 
myself  I  found,  not  far  away,  a  little  fountain 
of  water.  And  when  I  had  bathed  my  head, 
I  took  heart,  and  in  a  little  came  suddenly 
upon  the  convent,  in  a  glade  of  the  forest,  still 
and  silent  in  the  long  afternoon.  Entering 
into  the  church,  whose  door,  shrouded  by  a 
heavy  curtain,  stood  open  to  the  traveller,  in  the 
coolness  and  the  silence  I  refreshed  myself,  and 
presently,  stealing  alone  about  the  place,  I 
came  upon  the  portrait  in  relief  on  the  northern 


174  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

pillar  of  the  chancel  arch  of  Don  Bosio  Sforza, 
founder  of  this  place,  as  it  seemed,  carved  there 
perhaps  by  one  of  the  della  Robbia.  Under 
the  portrait  I  read  as  follows  : — 

Guido  Sfortia  Bossii  F. 

Sfortiadum  dynastia 

Comes  II.     S.  Florae 

A  Nobilissima  Matre 

Coscilia  Aldobrandesca 

Regionis  Dominationem  Acceptam 

Sapienta  Rexit 

Bellica  virtute  Defendit 

Monumentum  pietatis  Reliquit 

Templum  Hoc 

Coenobumq.  instituendo 

Ditando  quo  condi 

Jussit  A.  MDVIII. 

Yes,  I  knew,  the  line  of  the  great  Francesco 
Sforza,  Duke  of  Milan,  was  extinct.  The 
present  House  of  Sforza-Cesarini  descended 
from  Don  Bosio  Sforza,  Count  of  Santa  Fiora 
from  1 44 1  to  1476,  brother  of  the  great 
Francesco,  and  second  son  of  Don  Giovanni 
Muzio  Attendolo  detto  Sforza.  This  was  the 
man.  Just  then  a  footstep,  so  soft  one  might 
only  just  hear  it,  even  in  the  silence,  whispered 
on  the  threshold,  and  a  little  Friar  came  smiling 
toward  me,  and  seeing  me  engaged  in  looking 
on  the  presentment  of  the  Founder,  stood 
silent   a    moment.     Then    he    said,   "  Will  the 


Delia  Rohhia  Ficve,  S.  Flora 

THE   ASCENSION.     DETAIL   OF   PULPIT 

lAl.narij 


SANTA  FIORA  175 

Signore,  hear  other  things  concerning  that  great 
man  r 

Well,  the  Signore  was  willing. 

Then  he  led  me  to  an  altar  in  the  south  aisle, 
and  not  without  a  genuflection  drew  aside  the 
curtain,  and  there  I  saw,  in  a  mandorla  of 
Cherubim,  Our  Lord  hanging  on  the  Cross 
between  the  sorrowful  arms  of  God  the  Father, 
who,  crowned  with  a  triple  crown,  the  Dove 
trembling  in  His  bosom,  held  up  tenderly  the 
Sign  of  our  Salvation,  the  Light  of  those  who 
sit  in  darkness,  the  splendour  of  kings,  the 
buckler  impregnable,  the  safeguard  of  child- 
hood, the  strength  of  manhood,  the  last  hope  of 
the  aged.  And  suddenly  I  felt  on  my  shoulder 
the  gentle  hand  of  the  Frate,  and  looking  in 
his  face  I  too  knelt  in  silence  there  before 
the  Salvation  of  the  World.  And  later,  a  little 
shyly  I  thought,  Fra  Giovanni,  for  that  was  his 
name,  led  me  into  the  sacristy,  "  A  little  poor 
place,"  he  said,  "such  as  we  love."  And  by 
and  by  from  a  cupboard  he  drew  forth  the 
great  relic  of  the  convent,  of  which  indeed  I 
had  heard,  so  famous  is  it,  the  skull  of  a  Dragon 
slain  in  Maremma  by  Count  Guido  in  1499. 
Holding  it  delicately  in  his  fingers,  and  turning 
it  about  and  about  as    though  a  little  embar- 


176  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

rassed  by  a  thing  at  once  so  precious  and  so 
hideous,  he  bade  me  read  the  inscription — 

Guido  del  Duchi  Sforza  Conte  di  S.  Flora 

Nell'  anno  1499  andando  a  caccia  pre  il  bosco 

Di  questo  Convento  da  lui  fondato  otto  anni  innanzi 

I  conontrossi  con  un  orrendo  mostro  che  uccise 

Dopo  preghiere  innalzute  alia  SS.  Trinith. 

In  memoria  del  fatto  lascio  qui  questa  mezza  testa 

Mandando  1'  altra  metil  alia  SS.  Trinith.  de'  Monte  in  Roma. 

When  I  had  finished  I  looked  up ;  and 
Frate  Giovanni  smiled  at  me  like  a  child,  his 
eyes  dancing,  and  turning  the  skull  about  again 
at  arm's  length,  he  said,  "  Truly,  Signore,  and 
I  confess  it  at  once,  it  seems  to  be  the  skull  of 
an  ass,  but  Chi  lo  sa  !  There  were  dragons 
perhaps,  in  those  days,  and  it  is  so  long  ago, 
e  tanti  anni  fa'' 

"Certainly,"  said  I,  "there  were  Dragons, 
and  men  have  killed  them ;  and  because  they 
have  killed  them  all,  we  go  so  proud  and  say 
they  never  were.  This  is  a  veritable  thing, 
and  will  explain  much." 

"Signore,"  he  said,  "you  believe  it!  But 
you  cannot  be  of  the  English  nation  to  believe 
such  a  thing  !     Signore,  you  are  a  Christian  ! !  " 

"  In  England,"  said  I,  "it  is  as  certain  there 
were  once  Dragons  as  that  there  were  once 
Saints,     But  now  neither  Saints  nor  Dragons 


Delia  Rohhia  S.  T7-inita.  in-ar  S.  Fioi\ 

THE    HOLY   TRINITY,    IN    THK  CONYKNT    IN    THE   WOOL) 

(Alinari) 


SANTA  FIORA  177 

bother  us  any  more,  we  have  equally  killed 
them  both  ;  believe  me  in  this,  I  was  there  no 
longer  ago  than  last  year." 

"And  I  was  here  on  the  mountains.  .  .  ." 
It  was  already  evening  when  I  left  him  at 
the  gate  on  the  verge  of  the  woods,  looking 
towards  Santa  Flora.  He  gave  me  wine  and 
food  in  the  garden,  he  told  me  wonderful 
things  of  the  Mountain,  he  gave  me  a  relic, 
too,  to  go  with  me  always,  infallible  and  holy, 
and  I  loved  him.  All  the  way  home,  under 
the  stars  on  that  dark  and  dangerous  way,  I 
asked  myself  why  I  loved  him,  but  it  was 
hidden  from  me.  Even  now  I  cannot  tell. 
Was  it  because  he  believed  in  impossible 
things,  even  as  I  do  ?  —  only  for  him  the 
tyranny  we  call  reality  had  never  existed,  his 
home,  as  he  had  told  me,  was  in  the  silence 
"on  the  mountains,"  and  mine — ah!  why? — in 
the  mean  noise  of  London. 

When   I  came  to  the  gate  it  was  fast  shut, 
and  I  had  to  knock  for  admittance. 


12 


XII 

ARCIDOSSO 

nr^HE  road  to  Arcidosso  takes  one  quite  on 
-^  to  the  western  side  of  the  Mountain, 
through  the  woods  of  Bagnora,  heavy  with 
sulphur,  till  suddenly,  at  a  turning  of  the  way 
at  the  top  of  a  steep  hill,  Arcidosso  herself 
comes  into  sight,  and  beyond,  Montilaterone 
piled  up  on  her  mountain,  and  the  towers  of 
Castel  del  Piano  almost  hidden  by  the  trees. 
All  the  way  from  Santa  Flora,  and  indeed  from 
that  little  fortress  village  itself,  Monte  Labbro 
towers  over  the  valley  with  that  strange 
bizarre  ruin  on  its  summit,  like  the  ruined 
castle  of  some  Signorotto.  What  is  it  ?  you 
find  yourself  asking  perhaps  of  some  peasant, 
busy  among  his  scanty  vines.  And  always  you 
get  the  same  answer.  "That — over  yonder.'* 
— Ah  !  that  is  David's  Eternal  City — all  that  is 
left  of  it — Behold  it  then  !     Eccololi !  " 

Then  maybe,  as  you  get  nearer  to  Arcidosso, 

17S 


LA  MADONNA,  ARCIDOSSO 


ARCIDOSSO  179 

some  passer-by  seeing  you  gazing  at  that 
strange  outline  will  tell  you  softly,  looking 
round  lest  he  should  be  overheard  :  "  Signore, 
it  is  the  Nova  Sion  of  il  Santo,  whom  the 
carabinieri  shot."  And  if  you  explain  you  are 
a  stranger,  and  demand  of  him  what  Saint 
this  may  be,  he  will  answer  you  again,  even  a 
little  suspiciously,  "  II  Santo,  Signore,  il  Santo 
David  of  Arcidosso,"  and  pass  on,  leaving  you 
puzzled. 

It  was  a  little  child  who  explained  to  me  the 
mystery,  as  I  stood  weary  at  midday  on  the 
verge  of  the  woods,  half-way  on  my  road  from 
Santa  Fiora  to  Arcidosso.  Half  shyly  she 
came  towards  me,  and  then  as  I  offered  her 
some  of  my  lunch  she  ran  up  and  took  my 
hand  confidently,  and  later,  looking  towards 
the  Mountain,  she  said  suddenly,  **  It  is  the 
new-broken  tomb  of  our  Gesu  Cristo  whom 
they  killed  again."  And  speaking  of  this,  hand 
in  hand,  we  came  into  Arcidosso. 

Yes,  for  this  cause  the  history  of  the  place 
wearied  me,  I  was  thinking  of  David  Lazzaretti, 
called  II  Santo,  whom  some  indeed  believed 
to  be  "our  Gesu  Cristo."  Repetti  spoke  of 
Arcidosso  as  a  feud  of  the  Aldobrandeschi, 
traced  its  story  till  it   fell,  in   1331,  under  the 


i8o  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

dominion  of  Siena,  declared  that  the  monks  of 
Abbadia  S.  Salvatore  had  the  spiritual  direction 
of  the  place,  and  cited  an  instance  in  1249 
when  the  Chancellor  of  the  Comunita  appeared 
before  the  Imperial  Vicar  to  answer  a  suit  of 
the  Monastery  of  S.  Salvatore  for  that 
Arcidosso  had  established  a  market  to  the 
prejudice  of  the  Abbey.  What  was  all  that  to 
me !  Here  in  Arcidosso  was  a  child  who 
had  seen  the  "new-broken  tomb  of  our  Gesu 
Cristo  "  ;  what  was  all  the  history  in  the  world 
beside  that  ? 

Not  without  impatience  I  visited  the 
churches  of  the  place,  S.  Niccolo,  S.  Leonardo, 
S.  Andrea.  I  traced  the  terzieri  of  the  village  ; 
I  found  out  the  Castello,  the  Borgo  Talassese, 
the  Codaccio  or  Borgo  Pianese ;  I  climbed  up 
to  the  ruined  Rocca,  now  a  prison ;  I  wandered 
out  to  the  shrine  of  Madonna  delle  Grazie,  with 
its  miracle  pictures  and  banners,  where  the  two 
confraternities  of  S.  Rocco  and  SS.  Rosario 
meet,  and  where  the  great  fountain,  known  of 
old,  sings  all  through  the  summer  days.  The 
church,  they  told  me,  was  built  after  the  great 
pestilence  of  1348,  when  suddenly  a  little  child 
led  the  people  to  the  place,  then  in  the  midst 
of  a  wood,  and  there  they  built  a  temple  to  the 


THE  FALLS,   ARCIDOSSO 


ARCIDOSSO  1 8 1 

Beata  Vergine, — but  indeed  I  scarcely  heeded 
what  they  said,  for  my  heart  was  set  on  the 
strange  mountain. 

It  was  dawn  when  I  set  out,  quite  alone, 
even  asking  my  way  to  leave  the  village. 
Down  these  winding,  narrow,  dirty  streets  I 
went  into  the  grand  and  solemn  country,  till 
where  the  road  ceased  I  found  myself  on  the 
tawny,  arid  flank  of  Monte  Labbro,  alone  with 
the  sun. 


XIII 

THE  NEW  MESSIAH 

^  I  ^O  regard  men,  their  dreams  and  actions 
-■-  also,  as  formed  and  created  by  the  great 
impersonal  life  and  beauty  which  surround 
them,  helps  us  after  all  but  little  to  explain 
the  force,  evil  or  lovely,  to  which  it  is  said 
they  (were  thus  subject,  and  which  in  them 
seems  to  find  its  most  precise  expression.  If 
indeed  we  are  but  the  voices  of  the  hills,  the 
plains,  the  streams,  the  forests,  and  the  sea, 
we  remain  for  ever  as  great  a  mystery  as 
they.  We  cannot  understand  their  language, 
nor  in  any  way  speak  with  them ;  only  in  us 
sometimes  they  seem  to  be  articulate,  or  on 
some  fortunate  day  as  we  look  on  them, 
always  in  an  unexpected  hour,  there  will  rise 
in  our  hearts  a  peculiar  joy,  and  for  a  moment 
every  gesture  of  the  hills  seems  to  communicate 
to  us  some  passionate  and  moving  impulse, 
gone    while    we    try    to   apprehend  it,  whose 


D.Win    I.AZ/AKhril 

THE    MESSIAH    OF    MONt'    AMIATA 


THE  NEW  MESSIAH  183 

ghost,  as  it  were,  lingers  in  our  hearts  for 
days,  whispering  to  us  ever  more  faintly 
something  we  shall  never  overhear,  that  we 
shall  never  remember  or  understand. 

It  was  the  sun  that  began  S.  Francis's 
song,  that  dazzles  us  with  light ;  it  is  of  the 
valleys  and  the  mountains  that  Jacopone  sings ; 
while,  looking  on  the  autumn  fields,  Alberti 
says  he  wept,  he  knew  not  why.  In  England 
perhaps  it  is  the  grave,  persistent  voice  of  the 
sea  that  speaks  in  our  hearts  most  often ;  but 
in  Italy  it  is  eternally  the  dim,  sweet  valleys, 
the  passionate  hills  that  seem  to  speak  to  us 
continually  of  eager  and  simple  things,  those 
things  which  have  created  Europe,  and  forged 
out  of  the  dream  of  a  poet  the  religion  of  the 
modern  world.  And  if  Italy  could  of  old 
cast  her  spell  upon  barbarian  emperors,  and 
with  her  mystery  and  beauty  draw  all  men 
to  her,  here  in  Mont'  Amiata,  looking  across 
the  Patrimony  and  over  Maremma  to  the 
sea,  men  have  never  been  altogether  deaf  to  the 
voices  of  a  country  which,  beyond  any  other  part 
of  Tuscany,  is  full  of  strangeness,  beauty,  and 
silence,  the  gesture  of  the  mountains  so  passion- 
ate and  full  of  meaning,  the  plain  so  infinite  and 
solitary.     And  then,  not  far  away,  is  Latium. 


I  84  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

It  was  here  in  this  grave  and  solemn  country, 
where  the  purple  shadow  of  Maremma  lies 
between  the  mountains  and  the  sea,  where  the 
hills  themselves  are  broken  into  fantastic 
shapes  by  the  primeval  forces  of  the  earth, 
where  forever  the  woods  whisper  enigmatic- 
ally and  sob  and  cry  out,  or  are  strangely 
silent  all  the  winter  long,  that  David  Lazzaretti 
was  born,  in  Arcidosso  ;  curiously  enough — we 
may  be  sure  it  was  not  without  its  significance 
for  him — on  All  Saints  Day  1834.  He  came 
of  very  humble  folk,  people  who  were 
among  that  basso  popolo  which  is  nearest  to 
the  earth ;  and  his  father,  like  his  grandfather 
before  him,  followed  the  trade  of  a  butcher. 
There  in  his  father's  house  in  the  village  of 
Arcidosso  he  learned  to  read  and  write,  and 
while  he  was  still  very  young  he  began  to 
compose  poetry,  and  in  that  simple  place  early 
became  the  admiration  of  his  friends,  who  saw 
still  in  just  that  something  wonderful  and 
miraculous,  and  told  him  so.  Is  it  just  there 
his  later  dreams  of  apostleship,  his  claim  to 
prophecy,  at  last  his  usurpation  of  the  name 
of  Jesus,  lie  hid.-*  Ah,  who  can  tell?  He  was 
the  New  Messiah  !  But  yesterday  on  the  lips 
of  a  little  child  I  heard  his  name  :  she  called 


THE  NEW  MESSIAH  185 

him  Nostra  Gesii.  Who  may  divide  the 
false  from  the  true?  David  Lazzaretti  came 
among  the  peasants  and  did  them  good.  He 
came  to  his  own  and  they  received  him.  He 
laid  down  his  life  for  something.  Was  it 
only  for  David  Lazzaretti  ?  I'll  not  believe 
it.  I  have  read  his  life  as  written  by  a  hostile 
and  scornful  priest ;  I  have  read  the  scientific 
and  obscure  explanation  of  Signor  Barzellotti, 
a  native  of  Pian  Castagnajo ;  and  full  of 
information  as  both  these  little  books  are,  they 
seem  to  me  to  lack  humanity  :  for  the  one 
is  content  to  know  that  he  was  excommunicated 
as  was  Galileo,  while  the  other  finds  a  mere 
egoist  ready  not  only  to  labour  for  the  poor, 
but  to  die  willingly  at  the  hands  of  ignorant 
men  and  of  fools.  No;  as  it  seems  to  me, 
whether  David  seems  to  us  inspired  or  no, 
absurd  or  no,  this  at  least  we  have  no  right  to 
take  from  him,  the  honour  of  his  sincerity.  He 
died  for  the  abused  poor,  those  contadini  who 
even  to-day  are  too  often  the  mere  slaves  of 
the  Padrone,  and  who  in  Tuscany,  at  any  rate, 
are  the  salt  of  the  earth,  in  whom  one  day  we 
shall  find  the  salvation  of  Italy. 

David  has  had  many  predecessors.     Without 
returning   so  far   through   the  centuries  as  to 


I  86  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

come  upon  the  Saint  of  Assisi  and  his  followers, 
or  even  to  Bartolommeo  Carosi,  called  Brandano 
the  inspired  Sienese,  who  is  now  but  a  name 
in  the  language,  as  is  said  to-day  in  Tuscany 
of  those  who  prophesy  evils  sono  le  profizie  di 
Brandano,  there  was  in  our  own  days,  too, 
Simplicio  of  Sulmona,  there  was  Oreste  di 
Cappelle,  who  read  the  future  from  the  face 
of  the  rising  sun,  who  wandered  through  the 
world,  and,  returning,  passed  seven  years  in 
the  cemetery  of  his  native  village  in  the 
company  of  skeletons,  wearing  a  hair-shirt 
and  scourging  himself  night  and  day.  He 
too  drew  tears  and  groans  from  all  who  heard 
him,  and  at  last,  going  on  pilgrimage,  visited 
all  the  shrines  in  Italy,  remaining  for  thirty 
days  on  Monte  di  Ancona,  for  twelve  days  on 
Monte  di  S.  Bernardo,  and  climbed  the  highest 
summits,  bareheaded,  in  the  snow.  He  too 
fled  away,  going  to  Corsica,  and  there  God 
revealed  to  him  his  Apostolate,  so  that  on 
returning  he  went  again  through  all  Italy,  and 
wrote  with  his  blood  the  name  of  the  Virgin  on 
the  gates  of  every  city.  And  at  last  by  the 
inspiration  of  the  Eternal  Father  he  assumed  the 
name  of  the  New  Messiah.  So  he  went  through 
the  fields  in  a  blue   robe,  bareheaded    in   the 


THE  NEW  MESSIAH  1S7* 

sun,  and  in  his  hand  he  bore  a  great  staff  of 
chestnut  wood,  and  there  followed  after  him 
Pantaleone  Donaddio  who  was  S.  Matthew, 
Antonio  Secamiglio  who  was  S.  Peter,  while 
in  Maria  Clara  was  revived  the  spirit  of 
S.  Elizabeth,  in  Vincenzio  di  Giambattista 
was  found  S.  Michael  the  Archangel.  Thus 
he  went  over  the  hills,  followed  by  the  apostles 
and  the  three  Maries.  And  it  seems  to  me 
David  Lazzaretti  was  his  brother ;  only  while 
Oreste  was  an  Abbruzzese  David  was  a 
Tuscan — a  Tuscan  from  the  province  of 
Grosseto,  on  the  verge  of  Maremma,  on  the 
confines  of  Umbria  and  the  Patrimony.  And 
even  as  Oreste  had  heard  a  voice  and  seen  a 
vision  at  a  turning  of  the  way  amid  the  shining 
flax,  so  David  in  the  woods  or  in  the  byways 
of  the  mountains  was  transfigured,  invested 
with  a  new  and  pure  spirit,  so  that  his 
friends  (who  believed  in  him),  his  family 
(who  followed  him),  found  in  him  another  that 
they  knew  not,  and  ever  after  remained  among 
his  most  devoted  disciples. 

For  it  was  not  always  so.  When  David 
Lazzaretti  came  to  manhood  he  followed  the 
trade  of  a  barrocciaio,  well  known  through  all 
the  Mountain  for  his  physical  strength  and  his 


1 88  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

blasphemy.  He  himself  speaks  of  his  evil  life, 
not,  I  think,  with  regret,  but  as  some  strange- 
ness, some  disease  that  had  passed  from  him. 
He  was  a  poet ;  from  day  to  day  he  dreamed 
dreams,  he  came  under  the  influence  even  in 
that  far  place  of  the  political  dreams  of  Young 
Italy.  He  fell  in  love  ;  at  twenty  years  of  age 
he  married  Carolina  Minuccia  of  Arcidosso,  by 
whom  he  had  a  son  and  a  daughter,  witnesses 
of  his  pitiful  end. 

He  was  thirteen  when  he  first  heard  those 
voices  which  later  became  so  insistent ;  but 
then  he  did  not  heed  them.  The  continual 
need  to  work,  the  physical  toil  imposed  on  him 
by  his  trade,  the  journeys  he  made  round  about 
the  Mountain,  for  long  saved  him  from  a 
tendency  to  mystic  raptures  that  he  seems  to 
have  been  born  with,  that  was  certainly  in  his 
family  ;  for  though  his  biographers  speak  little 
of  his  mother,  I  have  seen  her  and  spoken  with 
her,  and  she  too,  it  seemed  to  me,  might  well 
have  been  aware  if  she  would  of  the  voices  of 
Earth.  However  that  may  be,  David  exercised 
his  trade  till  he  was  thirty-five  years  old,  and 
then  suddenly  in  1869  his  voices,  insistent  for 
once,  bade  him  go  to  Rome,  which  he  did, 
taking    with    him    the    terra   gialla    of     the 


THE  NEW  MESSIAH  189 

Mountain,  from  a  trade  in  which  so  many  of 
the  inhabitants  get  their  Hving. 

He  had  always  been  eager  to  talk  of  his 
"vocation,"  and  in  the  account  which  he 
published  concerning  it  he  speaks  very 
definitely  of  "an  unknown  and  mysterious 
person  "  who  it  seems  had  appeared  to  him  as 
early  as  1848,  telling,  as  he  says,  what  later 
came  to  pass,  but  enjoining  him  not  to  speak 
of  it  at  all.  It  was  the  same  "  mysterious 
person,"  appearing  to  him  in  a  vision,  that  in 
1869  bade  him  go  to  Rome  and  tell  to  the 
Pope  only  what  had  been  revealed  to  him. 
"Awaking,"  he  says,  "I  was  a  new  man.  A 
mysterious  power  had  taken  hold  of  all  my 
senses  and  intellect,  and  yet  my  will  and  reason 
were  free  and  had  all  their  normal  power." 

In  Rome  he  seems  to  have  obtained  a  brief 
interview  with  Pius  ix.,  sending  him,  through 
Cardinal  Panebianco,  a  "  Memoir "  of  all  that 
had  befallen  him.  But  almost  in  the  same 
night  a  new  vision  came  to  him,  in  obedience 
to  which,  instead  of  returning  home,  he  retired 
to  the  Sabine  mountains,  to  "  a  barren,  dry, 
obscure  place  under  a  lofty  rock,  where  was 
hidden  the  cave  of  Beato  Amadeo."  Here  he 
lived  for  a  longf   time  with  a   certain    lornazio 


I90  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Micus,  a  Prussian,  who  had  dwelt  for  fifteen 
years  in  the  Hermitage  of  Santa  Barbara  hard 
by.  It  was  with  this  hermit  he  returned  to 
Arcidosso.  For  so  "  extraordinary  "  were  the 
things  which  befell  him  in  that  lonely  place, 
that  he  could  no  longer  delay  the  beginning  of 
his  "mission."  What  these  "extraordinary" 
things  were  we  know  from  his  followers,  who 
have  left  more  than  one  written  account  of  what 
he  told  them,  "  full,"  as  Signor  Barzellotti  says, 
"of  the  ingenuous  spirit  of  the  fourteenth 
century."  It  seems  that  after  he  had  been  for 
some  days  doing  penance  in  the  cave  of  Beato 
Amadeo,  there  appeared  to  him  in  a  vision  a 
warrior  fully  armed,  who  begged  of  him,  per 
amor  di  Dio,  to  dig  in  that  place  where  he 
knelt,  for  there,  the  Shade  told  him,  he  would 
find  his  bones,  which  he  implored  him  to  bury 
in  holy  ground.  That  David  said  he  did.  A 
report  of  this  affair  seems  to  have  got  abroad, 
for  the  Arciprete  of  Montorio  Romano — a 
peasant  too,  one  may  suppose — said  he  helped 
him,  so  that  people  soon  began  to  hasten  to  see 
the  "  Man  of  God." 

Then  another  vision  came  to  David,  in 
which  he  saw  and  spoke  not  only  with  the 
Warrior,  but  with  Madonna  Herself,  S.   Peter 


THE  NEW  MESSIAH  191 

too,  and  S.  Michael  Archangel,  and  the  Friar, 
that  "  mysterious  person "  who  had  already 
appeared  to  him  more  than  once,  and  whom 
one  may  suspect  to  have  been  S.  Francis, 
since  later  David  expressed  so  great  a  love  for 
the  Poverello  of  Assisi.  In  the  "  conferenza,''  as 
he  himself  calls  it,  which  followed,  the  Warrior 
confessed  that  he  was  an  ancestor  of  his,  a 
certain  Lazzaro  Pallavisimo,  a  Milanese  who 
had  been  a  penitent  for  forty-five  years  in  that 
place,  where  at  last  he  had  been  buried.  At 
Rome,  he  said,  at  the  Court  of  Leo  x.,  he  had 
fallen  in  love  with  the  daughter  of  the  Count  of 
Pitigliano,  had,  by  her  suggestion,  killed  her 
father,  and  had  had  by  her  a  son.  Then  while 
fighting  for  the  Church  against  a  king  of 
France,  having  been  taken  prisoner,  the  king 
himself  had  granted  him  his  life  on  finding  in 
him  his  own  illegitimate  son.  This  strange 
story  came  to  an  end  with  "  prophecies  "  and 
"strange  revelations,"  and  the  "miraculous 
mission "  of  David  had  been  sealed  by  S. 
Peter  himself  with  the  sign  0  +  C,  which  from 
that  time  remained  ever  in  his  forehead. 

Whatever  we  may  make  of  such  a  tale  as 
that,  David  himself  was  found  stretched  on  the 
earth,  suffering   from    a    kind  of  fit   and,  as    it 


192  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

seemed,  at  the  point  of  death.  He  recovered, 
however,  and  returned  with  Ignazio  into 
Tuscany.  At  Passo  Corese,  a  lonely  place 
enough,  the  "Friar"  appeared  to  him,  bidding 
him  return  to  the  cave  in  the  Monte  Sabina. 
More  swiftly  than  any  thought  he  found 
himself  there  in  the  very  cave  which  he  had 
walled  up  before  departing,  and  indeed  he 
knew  not  how  he  came  there.  Next  day 
Ignazio  came  to  the  place  and  called  David 
many  times  by  name ;  and  at  last  he  was  able 
to  answer  from  within  where  he  lay,  and  tell 
him  as  well  as  he  could  what  had  befallen. 
Then  Ignazio  made  a  small  opening  in  the  wall 
to  let  a  little  light  into  the  cavern,  but  David, 
according  to  one  of  his  followers,  quoted  by 
Signor  Barzellotti,  "remained  for  forty-seven 
days  in  that  cavern  to  fulfil  the  will  of  God." 
One  night  a  great  storm  rose,  and  seven  times 
the  thunder  rolled  among  the  hills,  the  light- 
ning illuminating  the  whole  place.  At  the 
seventh  thunder-clap  David  saw  near  to  him 
a  great  furnace  suddenly  ablaze,  and  a  voice 
thrice  bade  him  cast  himself  into  the  midst  of 
it.  For  a  time  he  hesitated,  but  at  last, 
plucking  up  heart,  he  flung  himself  into  the 
flames,  which  wrapped    him    round,  and    in    a 


4     '    1^- 


v» 


UN    .M(<MK  J.AHiIku 


THE  NEW  MESSIAH  193 

flash  of  light  he  saw  "everything  in  God." 
From  that  time  David  had  the  gift  of  prophecy. 
When  he  returned  with  Ignazio  to  Mont' 
Amiata  the  fame  of  these  visions  had  already 
gone  before  him.  He  returned  home  a  changed 
man ;  his  very  countenance  seems  to  have 
gathered  and  retained  a  certain  light  from 
those  flames  into  which  he  had  plunged,  and  he 
astonished  all  who  came  to  him  with  the  story 
of  his  visions.  And  it  is  said  that  many  left 
him  at  last,  their  hearts  changed  by  the  Spirit 
of  God  which  shone  in  him.  He  read  their 
hearts,  and  before  they  opened  their  lips  told 
them  what  they  would  say.  And  they  called 
him  the  Man  of  Mystery.  It  was,  however, 
the  marks  set  in  his  forehead  that  astonished 
the  people  most.  Signor  Barzellotti,  a  native 
of  the  Mountain,  alludes  to  the  report  that 
David  was  born  with  two  tongues,  and  tells  us 
that  Dr.  Terni  of  Santa  Flora  examined  his 
body  after  death,  and  found  in  many  places 
circles  and  signs  burnt  in  with  an  iron,  while 
the  sign  0  +  C  on  the  forehead  was,  he 
assures  us,  "evidently  tattooed."  However 
that  may  be,  it  was  this  mark  which  most 
profoundly  influenced  those  who  became  his 
first  followers,  a  great  number  of  whom 
13 


194  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

followed  him  to  the  lonely,  bare  height  of  Monte 
Labbro,  which  rises  some  five  miles  to  the 
south-east  of  Arcidosso  ;  and  there,  under  his 
direction,  they  began  to  build  a  tower  on  the 
summit  of  the  Mountain. 

It  was  in  making  the  foundations  for  that 
stronghold,  it  seems,  that  David  found  the 
Grotto  which  to-day  opens  out  of  it  under  the 
ruins.  Did  he  know  of  that  secret  cave  already, 
or  was  it  just  a  fortunate  circumstance  such  as 
often  befalls  such  men  as  David  ?  Certainly 
he  put  that  strange  and  almost  terrible  place, 
the  work  of  prehistoric  man,  to  good  use.  For 
it  was  there  he  gathered  the  peasants  together 
to  pray  day  and  night.  And  it  was  over  this 
cave,  where  of  old  man,  just  roused  from  the 
brute,  hid  himself  to  worship  God,  that  David 
built  his  Tower,  of  great  stones  without  mortar 
or  cement.  All,  without  distinction  of  age  or 
sex,  helped  him ;  men  and  women,  boys  and 
girls,  abandoning  their  labour,  went  to  build  this 
Tower,  which,  rude  as  it  was  and  exposed  to 
the  winds,  soon  in  part  fell  down.  But  far 
from  losing  courage,  his  ideas  grew  within  him, 
till  one  day  he  determined  to  build  near  the 
Tower  a  convent  and  a  church,  which  together 
he  thought  would  cost  some  forty  thousand  lire. 


1 


THE  NEW  MESSIAH  195 

How   he  <iot  too^ether  such   a  sum  remains  a 
mystery.     Perhaps  some  rich  man  helped  him, 
for  David  ever  seems  to  have  had  in  the  back- 
ground   friends   both    powerful    and    wealthy, 
ready    to    assist    him    as    far   as    they    might. 
Those    were    the    days    of   the    great    political 
movement    which    brought    United    Italy    into 
being,  and  on  both  sides  in  that  struggle  there 
were  those  who  disdained  no  means  of  influenc- 
ing the  minds  of  men  on  behalf  of  the  cause 
they  had  at  heart.     Yet  it  might  seem  that  it 
was  rather  those  peasants  who  had  believed  in 
him  and  had  followed  him  to  Monte  Labbro  who 
helped  him  most.     For  at  this  time  he  founded 
the  Santa  Lega  or  Fratellanza  Cristiana,  and, 
more  important  still,  the  Societa  delle  Famiglie 
Cristiane.     The    latter   was    a   lay  community 
which    possessed    everything    in    common,   the 
products  of  the  common  work,   the    means  of 
life   and    livelihood.     They    began   by  putting 
together  their  fields,  their  oxen  and  their  crops, 
for  a  orreat  number  of  them  were  small  contadini 
possidentis  and    like   all   their    class,  the    most 
conservative  force  in   Italy,  profoundly  hostile 
to  any  novelty,  social  or  political.      But  David 
had  come  at  a  time  when  the  ground  was  ready 
for  him.     He  was  not  without  a  sort  of  culture, 


196  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

and  he  knew  how  to  treat  the  people  simply  ; 
his  great  strength  lay,  perhaps,  in  the  fact  that 
his  culture,  such  as  it  was,  was  not  beyond, 
was  not  out  of  touch  with,  the  minds  of  the 
peasants  round  him.  He  was  able  to  under- 
stand and  to  enter  into  their  thoughts  and 
desires,  and  by  his  genius  to  give  them  life 
and  reality.  Certainly  his  visions  and  raptures, 
the  voices  he  heard,  the  gift  of  prophecy,  were 
no  new  things.  The  Maremmese  knew  them 
well,  for  they  are  still,  even  to-day,  full  of 
occult  notions,  ideas  tinged  with  the  far-away, 
dim  thoughts  of  the  Etruscans  ;  they  can  receive 
and  appreciate  hints,  as  it  were,  from  Nature, 
of  the  past,  of  the  future,  and  find  in  their 
dim  communings,  in  the  shapes  of  rocks  or  of 
trees,  in  the  flight  of  a  bird,  the  aspect  of  the 
sky,  marvellous  revelations  through  which  they 
often  touch  reality,  finding  perhaps  in  an 
appearance  the  image  of  that  other  which  we 
have  chosen,  how  arbitrarily,  to  regard  as  the 
only  matter  of  fact.  Even  the  clericals  helped 
and  liked  him  ;  some  strange,  profound  charm 
lay  in  the  awakened  soul  of  the  sometime 
barrocciaio,  who  had,  as  it  were,  by  means  of 
the  poetry  of  his  nature,  found  salvation. 

And  since  his  great  strength  seems  thus  to 


THE  NEW  MESSIAH  197 

have  lain  in  his  temperament  and  in  the 
limitations  of  his  intelligence,  it  does  not 
surprise  us  to  find  that  that  Society  of  Chris- 
tian families  which  had  built  the  convent  and 
church  was  a  failure,  that  before  long  it  was 
grievously  in  debt,  and  that  many  were 
angered  and  disgusted.  David's  love  knew 
not  reason.  He  received  every  one  into  that 
fold,  and  left  the  practical  management  of 
affairs  in  the  hands  of  others  less  honest,  it 
may  be,  than  himself ;  he  was  absorbed  in  his 
thoughts  about  God.  At  a  certain  hour  in  the 
evening,  Barzellotti  tells  us,  after  the  Rosary 
had  been  said,  the  women,  of  whom  there  were 
many  at  the  Tower,  went  to  bed,  the  men, 
however,  remained  with  David,  who  either 
read  or  spoke  to  them.  At  midnight  they 
went  into  the  church  or  into  the  cave  under 
the  Tower,  and  said  Matins  and  other  prayers, 
then  followed  a  reading  and  a  meditation,  till 
five  o'clock,  when,  having  heard  Mass,  they 
went  to  work.  "Often,"  says  one  who  was 
present, — "often  the  day  broke  and  it  seemed 
as  though  not  an  hour  had  passed,  though 
we  had  stood  all  night  to  hear  him,  hardly 
breathing ;  and  in  the  morning  we  went  down 
the  hillside  by  different   ways   to   work  again, 


198  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

as    fresh  as    though    we    had    slept   all    night 
long." 

David  himself  seems  to  have  worked  with 
his  people  till  they  protested,  and  his  friends 
begged  that  they  might  do  his  share  of  the 
field  work.  He  consented  at  last,  but  for  one 
day's  work  only,  and  one  hundred  and  eighty 
men  and  women  crowded  to  help  him.  And 
on  that  occasion,  it  was  the  12th  April  1869, 
David  made  one  of  his  best  published  speeches. 
He  called  himself  a  "mysterious  being,"  and 
said  that  one  day  the  mystery  that  was  in  him, 
and  also  in  themselves,  would  be  revealed  clearly 
to  all,  but  that  meanwhile  it  was  necessary  that 
each  should  feel  in  the  depths  of  his  own  heart 
a  new  birth,  a  "mysterious  renewing."  "With 
all  my  heart,"  he  continued,  "  I  long  to  hear 
every  Italian  tongue  cry,  Evviva  Iddio,  Evviva 
Crista,  Evviva  Maria,  Evviva  la  Chiesa 
Romana.  There  are  those  who  hear  me  and 
will  take  me  for  a  partisan  of  the  priests.  Ah, 
it  is  not  so.  If  you  should  think  so,  you  are 
mistaken.  In  truth  I  am  a  partisan  of  none, 
but  of  God  only.  I  speak  only  what  He 
whispers,  I  am  the  mouthpiece  of  God."  He 
goes  on  to  tell  of  his  submission  to  God's  Will, 
of  his  love  for  Mont'  Amiata  and  for  his  friends. 


THE  NEW  MESSIAH  199 

Later  he  breaks  out  suddenly  with  fierce  in- 
vectives against  the  Protestants,  and  enters  into 
theological  subtleties  in  which  he  loses  himself. 
And  for  this  Barzellotti  thinks  him  the  mouth- 
piece of  some  over-zealous  priest. 

Yet  while  the  Society  lasted  it  was  not 
without  a  certain  usefulness.  Its  high  aspira- 
tions were  not  altogether  wasted.  It  aimed 
not  only  at  the  improvement  of  agriculture,  but 
at  the  instruction  of  the  members  and  their 
children  ;  it  maintained  a  schoolmaster  and  a 
schoolmistress  on  Monte  Labbro  for  several 
years,  and,  indeed,  as  Signor  Barzellotti  tells 
us,  both  were  in  the  procession  on  the  day  of 
David's  death.  It  failed,  and  an  action  at  law 
followed.  David  was  sentenced  to  two  years 
imprisonment,  being  accused,  and  convicted,  of 
dishonesty ;  and  though  he  appealed  to  the 
Court  of  Perugia  and  was  acquitted,  he  seems 
to  have  thought  it  better  to  leave  the  Mountain 
for  a  time. 

From  1869  to  1873  David  had  remained, 
save  for  a  few  days'  absence,  in  the  Hermitage 
of  Monte  Labbro.  He  had  long  declared  to 
his  disciples  that  he  would  be  called  by  God 
to  go  to  distant  lands,  for  there,  said  he,  the 
accomplishment    of   his    "mission"    would    be 


200  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

prepared.  Indeed  the  constant  expectation 
of  his  departure  strengthened  his  authority. 
A  short  absence  in  1870,  which  he  spent  in 
the  island  of  Monte  Cristo,  where  again  he 
suffered  many  visions,  had  certainly  encouraged 
him  in  the  belief  that  an  occasional  absence 
was  not  unfriendly  to  his  power.  On  the 
night  of  January  5,  1870,  he  had  gathered 
his  most  trusted  followers  together  in  the 
Hermitage  on  Monte  Labbro  and  had  there 
eaten  with  them.  He  sat  in  their  midst,  clad 
in  a  purple  robe,  and  to  each  he  gave  a  portion 
of  bread,  of  a  lamb,  of  wine.  It  was  a 
strange  supper  ;  even  the  prophecy  touching 
the  treachery  of  some  of  his  disciples  was  not 
wanting,  and  he  told  of  the  great  things  that 
would  befall  in  Arcidosso.  "  Return  to  the 
bosom  of  your  families  bearing  with  you  peace 
and  salvation ;  set  example  of  virtue  not  only 
to  those  of  your  own  home,  but  to  all  who  seek 
you  in  order  to  hear  of  me.  Consider  your- 
selves fortunate  and  happy  if  you  are  despised 
by  those  who  do  not  love  virtue.  Be  content 
and  tranquil  if  you  are  in  trouble  or  in  poverty. 
Think  not  of  the  world,  but  of  the  purity  of  the 
soul.  Prize  suffering  ;  keep  aloof  from  idleness  ; 
at  the  day's  end  offer  up  your  labour  to  God,  and 


THE  NEW  MESSIAH  201 

He  in  Heaven  will  bless  you."  His  absence 
was  short.  At  the  news  of  his  return  thousands 
hastened  to  await  him  from  all  parts  of  the 
Mountain.  Anxious  crowds  throng-ed  the  bare 
sides  of  Monte  Labbro.  And  as  he  was  seen 
at  last  on  horseback  climbing  through  the  low 
scrub  of  the  forest,  a  great  murmur  of  joy,  that 
at  last  became  a  cry,  rose  from  the  people. 
And  he  came  into  their  midst,  greeting  them 
all  by  name,  and  was  lifted  from  his  horse  by 
a  hundred  arms  gently  on  to  the  ground.  He 
knelt  down  and  gave  thanks  to  God.  Then 
turning  to  the  people  he  began  to  speak. 
"  God  sees  us,  God  judges  us,  God  condemns 
us,"  he  announced.  He  spoke  slowly,  syllable 
by  syllable,  almost  chanting  his  words.  He 
breaks  almost  into  sonof — 

"Chi  son  i  Re  del  Mondo?  Non  son  caduca 
polvere?  O  regi  inorridite,  presta  e  la  man  che 
fulmina  a  subissare  al  suol  le  vostre  inique  cattedre 
di  falsi  adulator  .  .  .  un  sol  sara  il  Re."  ^ 

That  was  the  year  of  the  taking  of  Rome. 
Who  knows  what  echoes  of  tremendous  events 
about  to  befall  Europe  from  the  cunning  power 

^  "  Who  are  the  kings  of  the  world  ?  Are  they  not  falling  to 
dust  ?  O  horror-stricken  kings,  swift  is  the  hand  that  descends 
as  the  lightning  to  smite  to  the  earth  your  iniquitous  seats  of 
false  flatterers.  .  .  .  There  shall  be  one  only  king." 


202  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

of  Bismarck  may  be  found  in  David's  speeches. 
His  love  for  France  was  not  less  than  his  love 
for  Italy.  But  it  was  of  the  latter  he  was 
thinking  when  he  prophesied  that  the  future 
liberator  of  the  world  would  be  an  Italian  who 
would  unite  himself  to  the  Church,  yielding 
kingly  authority  and  dignity  to  the  Pope  and 
governing  with  him.  Just  there  we  seem  to 
have  the  dream  of  a  Catholic  and  a  patriot, 
his  vision,  alas !  so  unreal,  of  Victor  Emmanuel 
the  Switzer  king.  But  it  is  a  greater  and 
more  splendid  thing  he  sees  when  he  tells  us 
of  the  future  unity  of  all  the  Latin  peoples 
with  Greece.  And  may  there  not  have  been 
some  profound  Latin  instinct  expressed  in  the 
vision  in  which  the  **  Friar  "  says  to  him  :  "  Let 
us  go  to  Latium,  the  land  of  the  great  men  "  ? 
Ah,  even  the  peasants  in  this  soil  cannot 
fororet  the  ofreatness  of  Rome. 

But  it  was  in  1873,  after  the  close  of  the 
Prussian  War,  after  the  grotesque  taking  of 
Rome  amid  the  howling  of  the  populace,  the 
greed  and  destruction  of  the  barbarians  of  Cis- 
Alpine  Gaul  that  David  set  out  for  France. 
Not  for  long,  for  in  a  few  months  he  was  back 
again;  only  to  return  again  in  1875  to  Lyons, 
where  he    seems    to   have    remained    with   his 


THE  NEW   MESSIAH  203 

family  till  1876.  What  caused  him  to  leave 
Italy  so  often?  Was  he  truly  called  of  God, 
as  he  said  ;  or  were  those  accusations  brought 
against  him  by  those  who  thought  him  personally 
responsible  for  their  losses,  in  the  failure  of  the 
Societa,  the  real  cause  of  his  continued  journey- 
ing to  and  fro  ?  In  France,  it  is  true,  he  found 
friends  and  benefactors  both  among  the  clergy 
and  the  laity  who  encouraged  him  in  his 
"  Apostoato,"  among  others  a  certain  Leon  du 
Vachat,  who  is  said  by  Barzellotti  to  have  lent 
him  eight  thousand  francs,  and  kept  both  him 
and  his  family  in  his  house,  paying  their 
expenses  at  Lyons  and  elsewhere.  And  it  is 
to  him  we  owe,  perhaps,  the  publication  of 
David's  writings. 

At  the  end  of  1876,  when  he  returned  to 
Monte  Labbro,  which  from  this  time  he  called 
Monte  Labaro,  the  Holy  Ensign,  where  was 
to  be  built  that  new  Sion  which  would  be  one 
of  the  Seven  Eternal  Cities  to  rise  in  Mont' 
Amiata,  a  certain  change  may  be  discerned  in 
his  doctrine.  At  first  some  of  the  clergy  of 
Arcidosso,  as  I  have  said,  supported  him,  partly 
perhaps  on  account  of  his  miraculous  conversion, 
which,  as  they  thought,  was  bound  to  edify  true 
believers.     It  was    the    Bishop    of  Montalcino 


204  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

who  had  consecrated  the  church  in  Monte 
Labbro,  served  by  two  ex-frati  of  the  Order  of 
S.  PhiHp  Neri,  who  had  become  his  cHsciples. 
It  was  the  pubHcation  of  his  book  My  Striving 
with  God,  ''La  Mia  Lotta  con  Dio,''  that  first 
seems  to  have  roused  ecclesiastical  suspicion 
against  him.  Perceiving  this,  and  altogether 
distressed  by  it,  in  November  1877  he  went  to 
Rome  and,  as  many  have  done  before  and 
since,  got  no  hearing.  Indeed,  the  one  thing 
that  really  seems  to  frighten  and  paralyse  the 
c^overnment  of  the  Church  is  a  book.  It  was 
the  same  in  the  sixteenth  century  as  to-day ; 
the  invention  of  printing  is  the  one  real  blow 
the  world  has  been  able  to  deal  at  Catholicism. 

While  David  was  in  Rome,  the  Bishops  of 
Montalcino  and  Montefiascone  suspended  the 
two  ex-frati.  Padre  Polverini  and  Padre  Im- 
peruzzi,  a  divinis,  and  the  chapel  of  Monte 
Labbro  was  laid  under  an  interdict.  It  was 
the  eve  of  the  death  of  Pius  ix.  and  of  Victor 
Emmanuel,  and  with  these  events,  apparently  of 
so  much  importance  for  Italy,  David  announced 
the  Era  of  the  Law  of  Right,  the  Reign  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  He  made  submission  to  Leo  xiii., 
and  persuaded  Padre  Imperuzzi  to  do  the  same  ; 
Padre  Polverini,  however,   refused  to  give  in. 


THE  NEW  MESSIAH  205 

Again  he  went  to  France,  and  even  to  London, 
and  on  his  return  we  may  again  perceive  an 
advance  in  his  teaching.  It  is  no  longer  Evviva 
la  Chiesa  Roinana  he  cries,  but  Viva  la  Re- 
pubblica,  die  il  regno  di  Dio ;  writing  indeed 
those  hymns  for  that  state  established  certainly 
in  his  heart,  in  all  noble  hearts  perhaps,  to 
which  he  had  won  so  hardly.  Was  there  some- 
thing not  quite  sane  in  his  dreams?  It  is 
difficult  to  say.  Yet  in  his  last  work,  the  Simbolo 
della  Nttova  Riforma  dello  Spirito  Santo  in 
24  Articoli,  something  exaggerated,  something 
like  a  cry  of  despair,  as  though  he  already  saw 
himself  forced  to  give  in  or  to  fulfil  the  dreams 
of  the  peasantry,  is  heard  ;  and  the  last  article 
declares  :  "  We  conclude  firmly  that  our  Master, 
David  Lazzaretti,  the  anointed  of  the  Lord, 
judged  and  condemned  by  the  Roman  Curia,  is 
actually  Christ,  the  Leader  and  Judge,  in  the 
true  and  lively  figure  of  the  second  coming  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  into  the  world.  .  .  ." 
Thus  began,  as  he  himself  said,  the  fifth  Act  of 
his  Tragedy. 

David  returned  to  Italy  for  the  last  time  in 
June  1878.  On  August  14,  the  Vigil  of  the 
Assumption — Our  Lady  of  the  Harvest — an 
enormous    crowd  of  his  followers  gathered  on 


2o6  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Monte  Labbro  to  descend  with  him,  as  he  had 
promised  them,  on  the  next  day  to  Arcidosso, 
into  that  new  kingdom  where,  so  he  had  seemed 
to  say,  they  would  have  a  larger  share  of  their 
crops  and  harvests  than  their  masters  them- 
selves. That  night  there  were  no  bonfires  on 
the  Mountain  or  in  Maremma ;  Madonna  was 
forgotten,  the  Kingdom  was  at  hand.  The 
authorities,  realising  too  late  that  there  might 
well  be  danger  in  the  excitement  and  greed  of 
such  a  multitude,  hastily  sent  for  carabinieri, 
increasing  the  force  in  Arcidosso  from  the  usual 
two  or  three  to  eight  or  nine.  Yet  it  was 
chiefly  the  priests  who  were  his  enemies.  The 
Prefect  of  Grosseto  was  his  friend,  forced  at  last 
to  betray  him. 

On  the  night  of  the  Vigil  David  watched 
alone  on  Monte  Labbro,  and  coming  at  length 
to  the  crowd,  so  great  that  all  the  side  of  the 
Mountain  seemed  to  be  alive  with  men,  women, 
and  children,  he  bade  them  to  say  the  Rosary 
with  him.  Then  he  invited  them  into  the 
church.  There,  in  a  profound  silence,  every 
eye  fixed  upon  him,  he  spoke  at  last  of  his 
descent  of  the  Mountain.  Then  he  told  them 
to  return  to  their  homes,  and  going  himself  into 
the  Hermitage,  followed  by  his  disciples,  he  made 


THE  NEW  MESSIAH  207 

them  put  on  the  symboHc  dresses  of  his 
Company,  which  he  had  brought  from  Turin. 
Then  he  saw  before  him  the  mysterious  people 
of  his  dreams,  the  personages  of  his  visions, 
the  Legions  he  had  awaited  in  his  heart.  And 
with  them  he  returned  to  the  church. 

It  was  again  in  procession,  a  few  days  later, 
in  the  dawn  of  August  18,  after  a  night  spent 
in  prayer  and  fasting  that  he  set  out  for 
Arcidosso.  In  that  strange  company  were 
seven  "  legionary  Princes,"  chosen  to  command 
the  Milizie  crocifere  dello  Spirito  Santo.  They 
were  clothed  like  the  "  seven  great  personages  '* 
that  David  had  seen  in  his  vision  in  the  Sabine 
hills.  They  wore  over  a  fantastic,  close-fitting 
dress  of  grey  and  red  a  blue  mantle  lined  with 
scarlet.  And  David  himself  was  dressed  as 
they  were,  save  that  instead  of  a  scarlet  hat 
with  hanging  point  and  a  yellow  stripe  he  wore 
a  blue  head-dress  with  three  tall,  drooping 
feathers,  one  of  green,  one  of  yellow,  one  of 
blue,  and  before  a  silver  dove  with  an  olive 
branch  in  its  beak.  There  followed  the  twelve 
Apostles  and  the  Disciples,  and  the  former  wore 
blue  mantles  but  the  latter  red.  Then  came 
the  Hermit  Priests,  who  represented  a  new 
religious  Congregation  ;  they  too  wore  a  blue 


2o8  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

mantle,  and  carried  in  their  hands  a  yellow 
crozier.  The  women  were  not  less  numerous, 
not  less  fantastically  clothed.  First  came  the 
Matrons  and  Sisters  of  Charity,  the  former  in 
red  mantles,  the  latter  in  blue ;  then  followed 
the  Maidens,  and  after  them  the  Daughters  of 
the  Canticles,  all  robed  in  white  with  wreaths  of 
roses  on  their  heads,  and  among  them  was 
Bianchina,  David's  little  daughter.  High 
above  the  heads  of  this  procession,  which,  after 
the  band,  was  headed  by  the  children,  numerous 
flags  were  seen,  the  white  and  blue  banners  of 
Our  Lady  of  Victory  borne  by  the  Maidens, 
the  white  banners  of  Christ,  the  yellow  ensign 
of  the  Levites,  the  red  of  the  Soldiers  of  the 
Holy  Militia,  the  three  flags  of  the  Italian, 
French,  and  Spanish  legions.  Then  they  set 
out  in  the  dawn  singing  David's  hymns. 

Thrice,  Barzellotti  tells  us,  they  wound 
round  the  Mountain  while  the  sun  rose  slowly 
over  that  strange,  barren  world,  glistening  on 
the  shouting  waters  of  the  little  Flora,  shining 
at  last  on  the  far-away  sea.  Some  doubtless  on 
the  way  turned  over  and  over  in  their  minds 
those  words  in  the  Book  of  the  Heavenly 
Flowers  where  the  Prophet  describes  the 
descent  of  the  New  Moses  from  the  Mountain. 


THE  NEW   MESSIAH  209 

"  This,"  he  had  said,  pointing  to  his  red  mantle, 
— "  this  is  a  token  of  blood,  the  blood  of  the 
new  Abel,  which  before  long  will  be  shed  and 
minMed  with  That  Which  is  in  the  Chalice." 

The  first  part  of  the  procession  had  already 
begun  to  move  when  a  messenger  came  in, 
panting,  from  Arcidosso.  It  was  David's 
brother  Pasquale,  he  bade  him  "  for  Heaven's 
sake  not  to  come  down,  for  in  the  village  were 
those  who  were  waiting  to  shoot  him  and  his 
flock."  Was  it  too  late  to  return  ?  Did  he 
even  wish  to  return  ?  Who  knows  ?  At 
least  he  answered  in  a  clear  and  ringing  voice, 
so  that  all  might  hear,  that  he  wished  harm  to 
no  one,  that  he  feared  nothing.  Then  in 
God's  name  he  bade  them  follow  him,  doubting 
nothing,  for  not  a  hair  of  their  heads  would  be 
touched.  "The  victim,"  said  he  "will  be 
myself  alone."     And  he  went  on  his  way. 

The  day  was  calm,  and  full  of  the  still  heat 
of  summer.  David  moved  hither  and  thither, 
giving  his  orders  with  vigorous  gestures  as  he 
was  used  to  do.  Twice  when  others  joined 
the  procession  on  the  way  he  addressed  them, 
asking  them  if  they  desired  the  Republic,  and 
when  from  thousands  of  throats  came  the 
eager  and  passionate  "St,"  he  continued: 
14 


2IO  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

*'  The  Republic  begins  to-day  in  the  world. 
It  will  not  be  the  Republic  of  1848  ;  it  will  be 
the  Kingdom  of  God,  the  Law  of  Right  which 
has  succeeded  to  the  Law  of  Favour,  La  legge 
del  Diritto  succeduta  a  quel  la  di  Grazia." 

Then  the  women  and  the  maidens  began  to 
sing  one  of  David's  hymns.  Barzellotti  has 
given  us  some  of  the  lines — 

"  E  qiiando  arrivato 
Sard  air  agonia, 
Ti  prego,  O  Maria, 
Soccorrimi  Tu. 
Raccogli  quesf  alma 
Nel  santo  tuo  velo, 
Scortandola  in  cielo 
Unita  con  Te." 

It  was  half-past  nine  when  they  approached 
Arcidosso.  There  a  great  crowd  awaited 
them ;  but  the  murmur  of  the  voices  died 
away  as  they  approached.  Out  of  the  crowd, 
which  indeed  blocked  the  road,  the  Delegate 
di  Pubblica  Sicurrezza,  De  Luca,  and  the 
Syndic,  followed  by  nine  or  ten  carabinieri, 
advanced  a  little  on  the  road  to  meet  them. 
David  left  his  place  in  the  procession,  passed 
the  children  who  headed  it,  and  went  alone  to 
meet  the  Delegato,  who  had  stopped  in  the 
middle  of  the  road  and  had  begun  to  read  the 


THE  NEW  MESSIAH 


211 


three  intimations  ordered  by  the  law,  calling 
on  David  to  return.  When  he  had  done 
there  was  a  great  silence,  then  David  was 
heard  to  reply,  "  I  go  forward  in  the  name  of 
the  Law  of  Right  and  of  Christ  the  Judge." 
And  he  pointed  to  an  image  of  Christ  Crucified 
on  a  banner  floating  above  his  head.  The 
Delegato  answered  nothing.  Presently  David 
spoke  again.  "If  it  is  Peace  that  you  desire, 
I  bring  it  you  ;  if  Pity,  here  it  is ;  if  Blood,  lo ! 
I  am  here,"  and  he  opened  his  arms  and  waited 
in  silence. 

A  thrill  of  excitement,  expectation,  and 
desire  ran  through  the  multitude.  The  Delegato, 
it  is  said,  would  have  spoken  with  him,  and 
indeed  did  so  ;  David  replied  with  a  wave  of  his 
arm,  as  was  his  way.  De  Luca  brandished  his 
gun  :  they  stood  alone  in  the  midst  of  the  way 
between  the  two  crowds,  who  looked  on  in 
silence.  Suddenly  David  was  seen  to  turn 
and  eagerly  wave  to  his  followers,  uttering  a 
few  words  drowned  in  the  enormous  cry  that 
rose  on  all  sides :  ''  Viva,  Evviva  la  Repubblicar 
Already  stones  began  to  fall  on  the  Delegato 
and  the  carabinieri.  Then  a  man's  voice  rose 
suddenly  above  the  shouting.  "Fire!"  he 
cried,  and  in    a  moment   the  rifles   answered, 


212  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

not  once  nor  twice,  but  many  times,  and  David 
and  the  Delegato  and  the  carabinieri  were  lost 
in  the  clouds  of  smoke. 

As  the  smoke  drifted  away  in  the  hot  air 
David  was  seen  to  be  lying  in  the  road  motion- 
less, one  or  two  of  his  disciples  bending  over 
him.  The  multitude  apparently  watched  what 
had  happened  without  much  disquietude.  Had 
not  the  Prophet  himself  said  that  no  shot 
could  kill  him  ?  But  when  his  wife  and 
children  had  come  up  weeping,  to  find  him 
wounded  and  bleeding,  he  was  carried  away  on 
a  ladder  along  the  road  leading  to  Santa  Flora, 
the  procession  following  in  order,  singing  his 
hymns.  They  had  no  thought  of  revenge ; 
their  faith  in  God  and  His  Prophet  was  such 
that  they  thought  all  had  befallen  to  try  their 
faith  ;  and  even  at  the  worst  if  David  were 
dead  would  he  not  rise  again  on  the  third  day  ? 
The  people  of  Arcidosso  saw  them  depart  with 
relief,  they  had  feared  an  attack  on  their 
trumpery  shops  and  wretched  homes,  which 
even  to  a  besfear  mis^ht  seem  indeed  to  offer 
but  little  as  loot. 

So  the  procession  passed  along  the  hot,  white 
road  toward  Bagnore.  One  of  the  spiritual 
Princes,  Barzellotti  tells  us,  a  tall,  strong  man, 


THE  NEW  MESSIAH  213 

with  long  white  hair  and  beard,  explained 
matters  as  they  went.  The  Prophet  had  said, 
"  I  shall  be  the  victim."  What  could  that 
mean  but  that  he  would  be  wounded  even  to 
death,  that  he  would  rise  again  ?  So  he  com- 
forted them.  But  David  gave  no  sign  of  life, 
only  now  and  then  in  his  agony  a  groan 
escaped  him. 

It  was  past  midday  when  they  reached  the 
village.  The  dying  man  was  laid  on  a  bed 
in  a  little  house  half-hidden  in  the  chestnuts 
near  the  road.  Around  him  knelt  his  disciples, 
waiting  for  him  to  revive ;  but  he  had  only  a 
few  hours  to  live,  for  the  three  bullets  that  had 
struck  him  had  entered  the  brain. 

"  I  found  him,"  said  one  of  the  witnesses  at 
the  trial,  "lying  on  a  bed,  while  near  by  knelt 
his  young  daughter  and  his  son  Turpino.  The 
girl  was  still  dressed  in  white,  with  a  long  veil 
and  a  chaplet  of  roses  on  her  head.  Turpino, 
too,  was  in  the  dress  of  the  Lazzarettisti. 
They  were  weeping.  Near  the  dying  man  was 
Dr.  Terni  of  Santa  Flora,  who  told  me  that  he 
had  only  a  few  minutes  to  live.  On  one  side 
was  David's  wife,  sobbing.  I  said  something 
to  her  to  try  to  comfort  her,  but  she  answered, 
weeping,  '  He  is  dying  for  the  Glory  of  God.'  " 


2  14  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

It  was  dawn  when  he  breathed  his  last, 
surrounded  by  his  followers,  who  did  not 
believe  that  he  was  dead  till  they  had  seen  him 
with  their  own  eyes.  Nor  then  were  they 
overcome  by  grief.  They  waited,  praying  and 
singing  hymns,  thinking,  indeed,  of  his 
resurrection,  and  no  one  would  have  touched 
his  body  but  that  an  order  came  from  the 
authorities  that  obliged  them  to  bury  him  in 
the  cemetery  of  Santa  Fiora. 

There  he  indeed  awaits  the  resurrection ; 
nor  is  there  need  of  any  stone  or  word  to  mark 
his  grave,  for  each  year  at  springtime  flowers, 
red  as  blood  newly  shed,  blossom  in  that  place, 
springing,  as  they  say,  from  the  heart  of  the 
Prophet :  there  the  Lazzarettisti,  kneeling 
together  and  binding  them  in  bunches,  place 
them  beside  their  beds  under  the  blessed  image 
of  Madonna,  as  who  would  say — 

"  He  saved  others,  himself  he  could  not  save. ' 


CONCLUSION 

T  T  was  one  morning  not  long  after  that  climb 
■^  at  dawn  to  David's  ruined  Tower,  that 
I  left  Arcidosso  for  the  railway  on  my  way 
into  the  valleys,  for  indeed  autumn  was  come, 
and  the  green  of  the  forest  was  turned  to  gold, 
and  all  the  fountains  were  filled  with  rain. 
Again  in  the  dawn  I  set  out,  passing  through 
Castel  del  Piano,  that  Castelletto  of  the  Aldo- 
brandeschi  of  Maremma  which  Guido  Riccio, 
Podesta  of  Siena,  took  from  Guido  and  Stefano 
of  the  Counts  of  Santa  Fiora  ;  and  which  Pio  ii. 
praised  so  well  for  its  beauty,  calling  it  the 
first  among  the  villages  of  the  Mountain.  And 
indeed  to-day  its  walls  are  still  washed  by 
those  streams  that,  as  he  found,  come  singing 
through  the  shadow  under  the  trees  about  the 
Castello.  Like  the  other  strong  places  in  the 
Mountain,  Castel  del  Piano  came  to  Cosimo 
de'  Medici  after  the  fall  of  Montalcino,  when 
the  Republic  of  Siena  died  in  1557. 

215 


2i6  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

There  is  but  little  to  see  there  beyond  the 
Madonna  of  the  place,  the  Pretorio,  the  Loggia 
del  Mercato,  the  Casa  della  Comunita,  two 
fountains  and  several  churches,  one  called 
S.  Maria  delle  Grazie  and  another  S.  Maria 
deir  Opera  or  Madonna  Nuova,  and  that  is  the 
biggest  church  in  the  Mountain  ;  a  building  of 
the  seventeenth  century.  While  in  the  Spedale 
della  Misericordia  without  the  Castello,  the 
Compagnia  di  S.  Giovanni  Decollato  has  for 
centuries  been  established,  and  there  Francesco 
Vanni  has  painted  the  death  of  the  Forerunner. 

But  the  call  of  the  road  was  in  my  heart. 
I  stayed  but  a  brief  two  hours  before  I  set 
out  for  Seggiano,  which  I  reached  at  midday. 
Divided  very  long  ago  into  two  parts,  Seggi- 
ano Vecchio  and  Seggiano  Nuovo,  the  place 
possesses  to-day  almost  nothing  of  any  interest. 
It  is  the  last  village  on  Mont'  Amiata,  and  there 
indeed  I  seemed  to  leave  the  Mountain  for  the 
valley,  since  Seggiano  may  well  be  said  to  be 
in  Val  d'Orcia,  So  I  went  on  my  way  by  the 
long  road  to  Mont'  Amiata  Station,  which  I 
reached  at  sunset. 

And,  strangely  enough,  eager  as  I  had  been 
at  last  to  leave  the  Mountain,  now  that  I  was 
there   in    the  valley  waiting   for   the    train,    a 


i\     llll-.    WAN    H)    THK   VALLFAS-NOON   ON   THE    ROAD 


CONCLUSION  217 

real  sadness  fell  upon  me,  a  sort  of  regret  for 
all  that  simple  and  beautiful  world  I  was  leav- 
ing,— yes,  I  could  not  but  admit  it — certainly 
for  the  last  time.  There  I  had  been  happy,  I 
had  forgotten — ah  !  what  had  I  not  forgotten, 
in  the  silence  of  the  woods,  with  the  sun  and 
the  wind  and  the  streams  ?  And  for  what  was 
I  forsaking  that  quiet  world  which  had  been 
my  friend  ? 

Just  then  the  whistle  of  the  engine  reached 
me  as  the  train  came  round  a  bend  of  the  line. 
It  was  too  late  to  turn  back  now,  the  porter 
had  already  seized  my  bag  and  was  standing 
waiting  to  send  me  on  my  way.  No,  there  was 
no  escape.  Yet  truly  I  would  have  given  then 
all  I  possessed  in  the  world  to  return  by  the 
road  I  had  come,  to  look  once  more  on  those 
mountains  towards  Rome,  to  await  one  more 
sunset  looking  over  the  Patrimony.  And  I 
was  going  back  to  Umbria.  .  .  . 

Such,  I  thought,  as  the  train  lumbered  up 
the  valley,  such  is  the  original  curse  of  all 
travellers,  that  even  our  pleasures  and  best 
adventures  only  bring  us  regret.  It  is  a  tragi- 
comedy— a  spiritual  farce. 

So  I  reasoned  with  myself  all  the  way  to 
Chiusi.     There    I    stayed   on    my    way.     The 


21 8  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

inn  was  good,  the  bed  soft  and  clean,  the  sky 
a  miracle  of  stars ;  moreover,  the  wind  came 
from  the  mountains  ;  yet  sleep  would  not  come 
into  my  heart,  but  stood  and  stared  at  me  all 
night  long  with  pitiless  eyes  of  iron.  So  I 
rose  up  after  midnight  and  went  on  my  way. 
Truly  for  what  had  I  forsaken  the  Mountain 
that  had  been  my  friend  ! 

When  the  sun  rose  I  found  myself  lying  by 
the  side  of  the  most  beautiful  lake  in  Italy,  on 
the  veree  of  Umbria — Umbria,  which  I  had 
not  dared  to  approach  since  one  day  in  the 
sunshine  I  seemed  to  hold  in  my  very  hands 
all  that  was  worth  having  in  the  world, — that 
vanished  at  sunset.  And  so  as  the  sun  rose  I 
sat  by  the  side  of  Lago  Trasimeno,  considering 
in  my  heart  of  all  those  things  which  had 
befallen  and  of  the  silence  between  now  and 
then.  And  suddenly  as  I  frowned  into  the 
lake,  where  the  rushes  whispered  together  by 
Passignano,  I  looked  up,  and  there,  like  some 
fragile  and  exquisite  ghost,  Mont'  Amiata  stood 
before  me,  her  peak  shaped  like  some  marvel- 
lous horn,  blue  and  silver  in  the  delicate  light. 

And  with  this  in  my  heart  I  set  out  on  my 
way  to  Assisi. 


NOTES 

Page  4,  li7ie  1 7. — The  Abbey  of  S.  Antimo  was,  in  the 
Middle  Ages,  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  among  the 
Benedictine  monasteries  of  the  Peninsula,  and  also,  with 
the  exception  of  the  Badia  S.  Salvatore  in  M.  Amiata  and 
S.  Galgano  in  the  Val  di  Merse,  the  most  powerful 
ecclesiastical  feud  in  the  Sienese  State.  For  the  modern 
reader,  however,  its  greatest  interest  is  probably  to  be 
found  in  the  fact  that  it  presents  one  of  the  most  notable 
examples  in  Italy  of  that  peculiar  style  of  architecture  which 
had  its  origin  in  the  eleventh  century,  when,  the  fatal  year 
1 000  having  passed,  that  universal  dread  of  the  end  of  the 
World,  which  had  so  long  paralysed  the  minds  of  men, 
began  to  fade  away.  The  first  three  years  of  the  century 
being  over,  the  World  awoke  to  new  youth,  and  casting  off 
its  torpor  of  fear  (as  Rudolf  the  Bald,  the  chronicler  of 
Cluny,  tells  us),  "  clothed  itself  on  with  a  white  garment 
of  churches — passif?i  candidam  ecclesiaruni  vestem  itidueret." 
Nowhere  was  the  activity  greater  or  more  febrile  than  in 
France  and  Italy ;  and  "  it  is  precisely  in  these  new 
ecclesiastical  structures  that  we  see  the  earliest  examples  of 
that  transitional  style  of  architecture  which  continued  to 
develop  itself  throughout  the  eleventh,  twelfth,  and  part 
of  the  thirteenth  centuries,  and  to  which  the  name  of 
Romanesque  was  justly  given,  because,  in  the  world  of  Art, 
its  development  was  coeval  and  corresponded  with  that  of 
the  Romance  tongues  in  the  world  of  Literature." 


2  20  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

One  of  the  most  notable  features  of  this  new  style  was 
the  substitution  of  vaulted  stone  roofs  for  the  ancient 
wooden  ones  ;  but,  in  its  application,  the  architects  of  the 
period  proceeded  slowly  and  tentatively,  commencing,  in 
the  early  part  of  the  eleventh  century,  by  covering  with 
cross-vaulting  the  lesser  naves  alone,  the  great  central 
nave  being  still  often  roofed  with  beams.  This  mixed 
style  was  long  preserved  in  Italy,  and  continued  to  be 
adopted  as  late  as  the  twelfth  century,  to  which  period, 
judging  from  the  above  described  method  of  roofing  the 
naves,  from  some  special  ichnographic  peculiarities  and 
from  its  general  architectural  characteristics  and  ornaments, 
we  may  probably  assign  the  erection  of  the  Church  of  S. 
Antimo.  Especially  interesting  is  the  construction  of  its 
apse,  annular  in  form  with  radiating  chapels,  a  method  of 
building  which,  though  common  enough  in  France,  is 
extremely  rare  in  Italy,  where,  exclusive  of  S.  Antimo,  there 
are  said  to  be  only  three  other  examples  attributable  to  the 
Romanesque  period.  Of  these  the  most  ancient,  which 
we  may  almost  call  embryonic,  is  to  be  found  in  the 
Church  of  S.  Stefano  in  Verona,  and  dates  from  the  tenth 
century ;  while  the  other  two  exist  in  the  Abazia  della 
SS.  Trinity  in  Venosa  and  in  the  Cathedral  of  Acerenza, 
both  of  them  founded  in  the  eleventh  century,  during  the 
Norman  domination. 

Of  the  original  Abbey,  which  was  of  much  earlier  date, 
the  only  remains  are  to  be  seen  in  the  crypt  below  the 
present  sacristy. 

For  full  particulars,  both  architectural  and  historical,  the 
reader  should  consult  the  learned  monograph  of  Cav. 
Antonio  Canestrelli,  Ricerche  storiche  ed  artistiche 
ijitorno  all'  Abbazia  di  S.  Antimo,  which  appeared  in  the 
BuUettino  Se?iese  di  Storia  Patria,  vol.  iv  (1897)  pp. 
57-82. 

Page  12,  line  4. — According  to  the  legend  the  six  steps 


NOTES  22  1 

which  lead  from  the  first  cloister  of  the  convent  to  the 
Church  of  S.  Francesco  mark  the  burial  place  of  eighteen 
knights  of  the  house  of  Tolomei,  who  were  invited  by  the 
Salimbeni  to  a  repast  {fuerenda)  at  the  village  of  CoUe, 
outside  the  Porta  Romana,  some  four  miles  from  Siena, 
and  there  treacherously  slain.  Thenceforward  the  place 
where  they  were  murdered  was  known  as  Colle  Mala- 
merenda.  Probably,  however,  the  story  is  nothing  but  a 
fable.  See  the  article  of  E.  Grotanelli  de'  Santi,  La 
favolosa  strage  di  Colle  Malamerenda,  in  the  Miscellanea 
storica  Senese,  vol.  i.  (1893)  pp.  209-215. 

Page  12,  line  7. — The  reader  who  desires  to  illuminate  the 
dull  details  of  topography  by  the  associations  of  the  sites 
described  may  like  to  be  reminded  that  the  scene  of  one 
of  Boccaccio's  Novelle  is  laid  in  Buonconvento,  See  // 
Decamerone,  ix.  4. 

Page  15,  line  3. — The  Bagni  di  Vignone  are  well  worthy 
to  be  visited,  if  only  for  their  connection  with  St.  Catherine 
of  Siena.  See  E.  G.  Gardner,  S.  Catherine  of  Siena 
(Dent,  1907),  p.  13.  The  earliest  record  which  we  have 
of  them  is,  probably,  referable  to  the  year  1170,  when 
they  were  given  in  feud  to  Cardinal  Unifredo  by  the 
Emperor  Frederic  Barbarossa;  but  there  is  reason  to 
believe  that  they  were  not  unknown  to  the  Romans. — 
See  Repetti,  Dizionario  geografico  fisico  storico  della 
Toscana  (Firenze,  1833),  vol.  i.  p.  232. 

Page  16,  li7ie  27. — See  G.  Rondoni,  Sena  Veins  0  il 
Comune  di  Siena  dalle  origini  alia  Battaglia  di  Montaperti 
(Torino,  Fratelli  Bocca,  1892),  cap.  vii. 

Page  26,  line  i. — In  addition  to  the  Dizionario  of  Repetti, 
referred  to  in  the  text,  the  reader  may  consult  Rondoni, 


222  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

op.  cit.  pp.  34-37,  and  for  the  imperial  diplomas,  Bohmer, 
Acta  Itnperii  Selecta.  Many  imperial  privileges  and  papal 
bulls  are  also  to  be  found  in  the  Carte  diplomatiche  della 
Badia  di  S.  Salvatore  in  Afontamtata,  preserved  among  the 
Sienese  archives,  while  the  histrujncntarii  of  the  Commune, 
known  as  the  Caleffi,  lay  before  us  all  the  policy  of 
Siena  with  regard  to  the  Abbey  and  the  Castello.  In 
consulting  these  the  hiventario  generale  del  R.  Archivio  di 
Stato  in  Siena,  published  by  A.  Lisini  (Siena,  Tip.  Luzzeri, 
1899),  will  be  found  extremely  useful.  Another  most 
important  contribution  to  the  literature  of  the  subject  is  the 
article  of  L.  Zdekauer,  Si/gli  Statuti  del  Monte  Amiata,  in 
"Studii  Giuridici  dedicati  e  offerti  a  Francesco  Schupfer 
nella  ricorrenza  del  xxxv.  anno  del  suo  insegnamento " 
(Torino,  FrateUi  Bocca,  1898),  pp.  239-253.  This  work 
contains  a  synopsis  of  over  a  hundred  documents,  for  the 
most  part  still  unpublished.  In  studying  the  relations  of 
the  monastery  with  Orvieto  the  Codice  Diploniatico  della 
Citta  d'Orvieto,hy  L.  Fumi  (Firenze,  Vieusseux,  1884),  will 
prove  invaluable;  while,  for  its  relations  with  Viterbo, 
Calisse,  Documenti  del  Monastero  di  S.  Salvatore  sul  Monte 
Amiata,  riguardanti  il  territorio  romano  {Secoli  viii.-xii.), 
Estr.  dair  Arch,  della  R.  Societa  Romana  di  Storia  Patria, 
vol.  xvi.-xvii.  should  be  consulted. 


Pages  26-27. — For  the  legend  of  the  foundation  of 
the  Abbey,  see  Gigli,  Diario  Sanese  (2a  edizione), 
ii.  462-465,  and  Rondoni,  Tradizioni popolari  e  leggende  di 
un  Comune  Medioevale  e  del  suo  contado  (Firenze,  Ufifizio 
della  Rassegna  Nazionale,  1886),  pp.  105-106. 

Pages  30-32. — See  D.  Winspeare,  Storia  degli  abusi 
feodali  (Napoli,  Gabriele  Regina,  1883),  p.  319,  nota 
587;  C.  Cantx),  Storia  degli  Italiani  {Torino,  1854),  cap, 
Ixxv.    n.   25  ;   and,  for   the   various   feudal   services   owed 


xNOTES  223 

by  the  inhabitants  of  the  Castello  to  the  Abbey,  L.  Fumi, 
op.  cit.  p.  211. 

Page  33,  line  2. — The  document  referred  to  was  pub- 
lished by  L.  Zdekauer,  as  an  appendix  to  his  La 
"  Carta  Libertatis  "  e  gli  Statuti  della  Rocca  di  Tintinnano, 
(i 207-1 297),  in  the  Bullettino  Senese  di  Storia  Fatria, 
vol.  iii.  (1896)  pp.  374-376. 

Page  42,  line  20. — The  quotation  is  from  the  Commen- 
taries of  Pius  II.  The  "  Bishop  and  six  Cardinals  "  formed 
part  of  the  papal  e7itourage.  The  Pope  was  lodged  in  the 
Abbey,  while  the  Bishop  and  Cardinals  found  quarters  in 
the  Castello. 

Page  45,  line  7. — These  inscriptions   are   as  follows : — 
(To  the  right) 

AVD.    CAVS.    ORD.    N.    ABALI 
S.    IVRISD. 

which   may   be   interpreted    Audie?ttia    causaruvi    Ordims 
nostrce  Abatialis  iurisdidionis. 
(To  the  left) 

AVDIENTIA   CAVSARVM 
VIDVARVM   ET   PVPILLORVM. 

Above  the  former  is  a  fresco  entitled  Recta  lustitia,  repre- 
senting the  Archangel  Michael  with  a  balance;  while 
above  the  latter  is  an  Angel  leading  a  child  by  the  hand, 
with  the  legend  Pia  Protectio. 

Page  45,  line  10. — Bibl.  Com.  in  Siena,  Cod.  A.  x.  74. 
Only  the  first  ten  books  of  the  Historie  of  Giugurta 
ToMMASi  have  been  printed.  His  widow,  Livia  Cinuzzi, 
died  in  1628,  before  she  had  completed  the  task  of 
editing  the  later  and  more  valuable  portion  of  his  vol- 
uminous work. 


2  24  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Page  48,  line  2. — Besides  the  relics  alluded  to  in  the 
text,  the  Abbey  possesses  a  curious  memento  of  one  of 
those  strange  mediaeval  spectacles  so  many  of  which  have 
passed  away  during  the  memory  of  men  yet  living.  For, 
just  as  Empoli  celebrated  her  Volo  dell'  asino,  so,  until 
quite  recently,  did  Abbadia  continue  to  celebrate  her  Volo 
della  capra ;  and  the  rope  on  which  the  unfortunate  animal 
"flew"  from  the  summit  of  the  church-tower  to  the  outer 
gate  of  the  Abbey  is  still  preserved  in  a  cupboard  of  the 
sacristy.  None  of  the  Abbadinghi  were  able  to  give  me 
any  information  concerning  the  origin  and  significance  of 
the  spectacle,  though  many  of  them  remembered  it  well. 
Indeed,  I  believe  that  my  first  visit  to  Abbadia,  some 
thirteen  years  ago,  was  made  almost  immediately  after  its 
abandonment.  Equally  without  result  were  my  inquiries 
touching  the  Corso  de'  fiiaccherofti  of  S.  Flora,  which  takes 
place  annually,  in  the  month  of  August.  It  consists  of  a 
race  along  the  piazza  to  where  great  bowls  of  macaroni 
stand  a-row.  Into  these  the  competitors,  whose  hands  are 
tied  behind  them,  plunge  their  faces  and  eat  like  swine,  he 
who  first  consumes  his  portion  being  acclaimed  the  winner. 

Page  70,  line  26, — In  Monte  Amiata,  as  elsewhere  in 
Tuscany  and  Umbria,  and,  I  believe,  also  in  the  March, 
bells  are  rung  to  avert  lightnings,  winds  and  hail,  which 
are  attributed  by  the  peasantry  to  diabolic  influences.  For 
the  contadino  of  to-day,  as  for  his  ancestors  for  imme- 
morial ages,  Satan  is  the  "  prince  of  the  power  of  the  air," 
and  it  is  believed  that  bells,  and  especially  church  bells, 
may  prevail  against  him.  Is  it  not  written  in  the  ancient 
Hymn  of  the  Belli — 

"  Laudo  Deum  verurn 
Plebem  voco 
Congrego  clerum 
Defunctos  ploro 
Pestem  fugo 
Festa  decoro 


NOTES  225 

Funera  plango 

Fulgura  frango 

Sabbato  pango 
Excito  lentos 

Dissipo  ventos 

Paco  cruentos." 

and,  finally,  the  terrible  verse : 

"Est  mea  cunctorum  terror  vox  dcemoniorum." 

On  this  subject  something  has  been  written  in  Heyvvood's 
The  ^^  Ensamples"  of  Fra  Filippo  (Siena,  Torrini,  1901), 
pages  290  et  seq. ;  while,  in  addition  to  the  authorities  there 
cited,  the  reader  may  consult  G.  Bellucci,  La  grandine  nelV 
Umbria  (Perugia,  Unione  Tip.  Coop.  Editrice,  1903),  and 
the  forthcoming  volume  //  fubnine  nelle  tradizmie  popolari 
antiche  e  ftioderne  by  the  same  author. 

Page  85,  line  4. — For  a  full  account  of  the  Palio  of 
Siena  see  W.  Hevwood,  Falio  and  Fofite,  London,  Methuen, 
1904. 

Page  95,  line  14. — The  Voyage  of  Italy,  or  A  Compleat 
Journey  through  Italy.  In  Two  Parts.  With  the  Char- 
acters of  the  People,  and  the  Description  of  the  Chief 
Tow?is,  Churches,  Monasteries,  Tombs,  Libraries,  Pallaces, 
Villas,  Gardefis,  Pictures,  Statues  and  Antiquities.  As 
also  of  the  Lnterest,  Goverrunent,  Riches,  Force,  etc.,  of  all  the 
Princes.  With  Instructions  concerning  Travel.  By  Richard 
Lassels,  Gent,  who  Travelled  through  Ltaly  Five  Times 
as  Tutor  to  several  of  the  English  Nobility  and  Gentry. 
Never  before  Extant.  Newly  Printed  at  Paris,  and  are 
to  be  sold  in  London,  by  John  Starkey,  at  the  Mitre  in 
Fleet  Street  near  Temple  Barr,  1670. 

Such  is  the  modest  title  of  the  work.  The  passage 
quoted  in  the  text  will  be  found  on  page  241  of  the  First 
Part. 

15 


2  26  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Page  98,  line  4. — The  story  "of  the  Judgment  which 
befel  a  very  great  and  cruel  Usurer  of  the  Town  of 
Radicofani "  may  be  read  in  the  original  in  Gli  Assetnpri  di 
Fra  Filippo  da  Siena,  Leggende  del  Secolo  xiv.  Pubbl. 
per  cura  del  D.  C.  F.  Carpellini,  Siena,  Gati,  1864.  In 
his  ^^ Ensamples"  of  Fra  Filippo  (Siena,  Torini,  1901) 
W.  Heywood  has  used  this  work  as  a  basis  for  the  dis- 
cussion of  the  social  conditions  and  beliefs  of  the  Italians, 
and  especially  of  the  Sienese,  during  the  later  Middle  Ages 
and  early  Renaissance.  Several  of  the  Asseinpri  have  been 
there  translated  in  full. 

Page  102,  line  21. — The  work  here  referred  to  is,  of 
course,  Dante  in  Siena  ovvero  accenni  ?tella  Divina 
Commedia  a  cose  Sanesi,  by  Bartolomeo  Aquarone  (Cittk 
di  Castello,  Lapi,  1889).  The  sixth  chapter  is  devoted 
to  Ghino  di  Tacco. 

Page  102,  line  24. — A  notable  example  of  a  once  proud 
Seignior  reduced  to  absolute  beggary  by  the  new  order  of 
things  is  to  be  found  in  the  case  of  Niccolo,  Count  of 
Tintinnano,  who,  in  1296  and  again  in  1298,  was  relieved 
by  the  Commune  of  Siena  as  a  pauper. 

R.  Arch,  di  Stato  in  Siena.  Libri  di  Biccherna^ 
1296,  a  c.  233  (use):  Itein  iij  lib.  in  una  tunicha,  quatn 
kabuit  NiCHOLAUs,  comes  de  Roccha  ad  Tetenanum, 
causa  paupertatis ;  et  est  habita  inde  appodissa  a  dominis 
Novem. 

Ibid.  1298  ac.  202':  Item.  iij.  lib.  xj.  sol.  vj.  den.  In 
quadani  tunicha  et  in  uno  caputio  et  uno  pario  chaligarum 
datis  pro  a?nore  Dei  Niccholaio  de  Tintinnano. 

Page  121,  line  4.  —  Anno  Domini,  1234.  Postquam 
Pepus  filius  Tancredi  Vicecomitis  de  Campilia,  qui  turn 
temporis    arcem    ipsam     tenebat,    juravit    in    man  us    D. 


NOTES  227 

Transmundi  Anibaldi  Potestatis  Senensis  cum  omnibus 
hominibus  de  Campilia  facere  pacem  et  guerram  ad 
mandatum  dictae  Potestatis  et  Comitatus  Senensis  et 
Comunitatis  Senensis,  dictus  Pepus  spreta  religione  jus- 
jurandi  cum  illis  de  Castilione  et  cum  Comitibus  de 
Tintinano  juravit  in  manus  Florentinorum  et  Urbevetanorum 
facere  guerram  Senensibus  ad  mandatum  eorum,  et  juvare 
Montalcinenses  tota  virtute  sua.  Transmundus  Potestas 
Senensis  cum  duabus  partibus  Civitatis  ad  Arcem  ipsam 
accessit,  et  pars  Burgi  capta  et  combusta  fuit,  et  sequenti 
die  capta  fuit  reliqua  pars  Burgi  cum  sala  et  arce  super- 
iori — Cronica  Sanese  in  Muratori,  i?.  /.  S.  xv.  25,  n.  16. 
Compare  also  Repetti,  Dizionario  cited,  vol.  i.  pp.  424- 
425,  and  for  a  picturesque  incident  which  followed  the 
storming   of  the   place   see   Heywood,  Palio   and  Fonie, 

P-  39- 

It  is,  of  course,  equally  possible  that  the  Visconti  of 
Campiglia  may  have  been  the  viscounts  of  the  Contea 
Aldobrandesca  (compare  Berlinghieri,  of.  cit.  p.  24). 
The  important  point  is  that  their  name  of  Visconti  was  in 
its  origin  a  title.  Like  all  the  rest  of  their  class  they 
were  magnificent  robbers,  and,  among  the  entries  in  the 
Memoriale  delle  Offese,  it  is  recorded  of  one  of  these  seigniors 
that  he  "  abstulerat  pecudes  et  oves  Guidoni  civi  Senensi." 
— See  L.  Banchi,  //  Memoriale  delle  Offese  faite  al  Comune 
ed  ai  Cittadini  di  Sie?ta,  etc.,  in  the  Arch.  Stor.  Hal,  Serie 
iii.  torn.  xxii.  pp.  197-234. 

Page  122,  line  6. — As  to  the  war  with  the  Salimbeni  in 
1374,  see  the  Cronica  Sanese  in  Muratori,  Rer.  Italic. 
Script.  XV.  col.  242,  243.  The  Sienese  were  routed  in  the 
Piano  di  Boccheggiano,  on  the  23rd  of  October ;  and 
Benvoglienti  states  (col.  243,  n.  70)  that,  in  his  opinion, 
it  is  to  this  reverse  that  the  old  translator  of  the  Fables  of 
^sop  (himself  a  Sienese)  refers  in  his  version  of  the  Battle 
between  the  Beasts  and  the    Birds,   Johanni   Credi   de' 


228  LN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Visconti  da  Campiglia  being  there  represented  by  the  Bat. 
I  quote  the  favola  at  length  : — 

^^  Delia  battaglia  delle  bestie  cogli  nccelli. 

**  Avendo  mandate  il  lione  la  lepre  per  suo  grande  bisogno 
con  lettere,  trovossi  col  falcone,  ed  hagli  tolto  le  lettere, 
e  portoUe  dinanzi  all'  aquila,  e  in  queste  lettere  si 
conteneva  cose  di  grande  vergogna  dell'  aquila  ;  cive  ch'era 
trovata  in  avolterio  col  nibbio.  E  vedendo  I'aquila  che 
il  lione  cercava  sua  vergogna,  mando  al  lione  imbasceria, 
dicendo  che  lo  voleva  per  nemico,  e  che  mai  non  port- 
erebbe  corona,  se  no  '1  facesse  conoscente  di  tanta  follia. 
E  udito  il  lione  la  sconvenevole  imbasciata  dell'  aquila, 
rispose  gabbando :  io  ho  intendimento  di  tenere  consiglio 
e  parlamento  in  questo  mese,  ea  essembrare  tutta  la  mia 
gente  in  maremma  nel  piano  di  Boccheggiano,  e  se  '1  aquila 
ha  intendimento  di  vendicare  sua  inguiria,  ivi  mi  potra  trovare. 
Ed  acciocche  a  questo  dia  fede,  voglio  che  gli  portiate 
questa  lancia  e  il  guanto.  Ora  e  stabilita  la  battaglia  tra 
gli  uccelli  e  le  bestie ;  ed  ogni  parte  s'apparecchia  e  fornisce 
di  tutti  i  fondamenti  da  battaglia ;  e  sono  guinti  in  sul  campo. 
E  vedendo  il  pipistrello  essere  fatte  le  schiere  ed  essere  piii 
le  bestie  che  gli  uccelli,  prese  una  lancia  lunga,  ed  enne 
andato  dalla  parte  delle  bestie,  ed  accostossi  colla  masnada 
de'  topi.  Ed  allora  I'aquila,  siccome  savia  e  provveduta 
ammaestra  le  schiere,  e  cosi  fa  il  lione;  ed  ordinate  gli 
scorridori  cominciossi  la  battaglia,  e  duro  grande  parte  del 
di ;  nella  quale  battaglia  gli  uccelli  hanno  vinto  e  messe  le 
bestie  in  isconfitta.  E  vedendo  il  pipistrello  avere  gli  uccelli 
vittoria,  tornassi  fra  gli  uccelli,  e  stava  quasi  mezzo  svergog- 
nato.  Allora  I'aquila  lo  fece  pigliare  ed  impiccare  per  li 
piedi,  e  tutto  quanto  lo  fece  percussare.  E  quando  fu 
spiccato,  in  presenzia  di  tutti  gli  altri  uccelli  fecegli  questo 
comandamento  (e  questo  si  ^  scritto  per  le  mani  del  nibbio) : 
che  mai  di  di  non  si  lasci  trovare  in  luogo  d'  onore ;  e  fu 
tormentato  con  grandissimi  bastoni,  e  tutto  fu  fracassato. 


NOTES  229 

(Le  Favole  d'Esopo  volgarizzate  per  tino  da  Stenn  (Parma, 
P.  Fiaccadori,  1S60),  Favola  xlv.  pp.  76-77.) 

Page  131,  line  6. — "  Pietro,  pievano  of  Proceno."  The 
word  p/evano  is  here  left  untranslated  because  we  possess 
no  English  equivalent.  In  all  the  Italian- English  diction- 
aries with  which  I  am  acquainted  P/evano  is  said  to  mean 
"a  parish  priest"  or  "country  parson,"  and,  even  so 
excellent  and  well  informed  a  writer  as  Professor  W,  F. 
Butler,  in  his  Lombard  Communes^  p.  88,  falls  into  the 
error  of  translating  Pieve  as  "  Parish."  A  Pieve  is,  in  fact, 
something  more  than  a  parish,  being  defined  as  Chiesa 
parrocchiale,  die  ha  sotto  di  sc  priorie  e  rcttorie  e  per  lo  pin 
ville  e  castella  (Manuzzi,  Vocabolario  s.v.).  In  his  Cronica 
(vii.  36)  G.  ViLLANi  classes  pievi  with  *'  rich  Abbeys."  A 
Pievano  is,  of  course,  the  Rector  of  a  pieve.  The  Italian 
for  Parish  Priest  is  Parroco  or  Curato.  It  would,  on  the 
face  of  it,  be  absurd  to  suppose  that  a  mere  parish  priest 
would  have  been  chosen  to  arbitrate  between  the  Bishop  of 
Sovana  and  the  Abbot  of  S.  Salvatore. 

Pages  1 31-133. — For  the  facts  here  stated  see  an  article 
in  the  Miscellanea  Storica  Senese,  vol.  ii.  (1894)  pp.  172- 
173- 

Page  135,  line  21. — For  a  picturesque  description  of  the 
Mugnello  see  G.  Barzellotti,  David  Lazzaretti  di  Arci- 
dosso  detto  il  Santo,  i  siioi  Seguaci  e  la  stia  Leggenda  (Bologna, 
Zanichelli,  1885),  pp.  78-86.  "The  great  rough-hewn 
fountain,"  mentioned  in  the  text,  is  known  among  the 
common  people  as  "  il piatto  delle  streghe.^^ 

Chapter  X.  —  With  regard  to  the  Aldobrandeschi 
the  reader  should  consult  Berlinghieri,  Notizie  degli 
Aldobrandeschi,  Siena,  O,  Porri,  1842  ;  Repetti,  Dizionario, 


2  30  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

cited,  Appendice,  cap.  xii.  pp.  55-63 ;  Aquarone,  Dmite 
in  Siena,  op.  cit.  vii.  pp.  95  et  seq.  \  Rondoni,  Sena  Vetus, 
viii.  pp.  28  ct  seq.,  and  an  article  in  the  Archivio  Storico 
Italiano,  torn,  xviii.  (1886),  '' Orvieto  nel  Medio  EvOy'  by 
the  same  author.  See  also  L.  FuMi,  Codice  Dipl.  di 
Orvicio,  op  cit.  Doc.  l.xxvi.,  xc,  xcvi.,  cv.,  cvi.,  cxx.,  cxxii., 
cxlix.,  clii.,  clxi.,  clxviii. 

The  origin  of  the  Aldobrandeschi  is  a  question   which 
has  been  much  debated.      Repetti  {ubi  cit.)  and  Gigli 
{Diario,  edition   cited,  ii.   733)  assert   that   they  were   of 
Salic  stock ;  and  this  view  seems  to  be  supported  by  the 
Pergatnene   Bichi-Borghesi  (G.    x.)   in   the   R.    Arch,    di 
Stato  in  Siena  (cited  by  Rondoni,  ubi  cit.  p.  29,  n.  i) : 
"ex  natione   nostra   lege  vivere   salica   professi   diximus." 
On   the   other  hand,    G.   Villani   {Cronica,   ii,    21)   and 
Berlinghieri  (p.  16)  maintain  that  they  were  of  Longobard 
extraction.     Aquarone   (p.    96)   argues  that   this  opinion 
is   probably  the   correct   one,  because,  among   the   Aldo- 
brandeschi, the  succession  was   not  limited  to  the  male 
members  of  the  house,  a  thing  altogether  opposed  to  the 
well-known  maxim  of  the  Salic  law  that  "  Be  Terra  atiteni 
Salica  nulla  portio  haereditatis  mulieri  veniat  sed  ad  virilem 
sexuin  tota  haereditas  perveniat."     This  contention  would, 
however,  have  more  weight  were  it  not  for  the  well-known 
fact  that,  in  course  of  time,  women  were  admitted,  generally, 
to  succeed  to  all  fiefs ;  and  the  Salic  law  lost  all  its  force, 
except  as  to  the  succession  to  the  crown.     "  Many  instances 
are  on  record  of  women  personally   presiding   over   their 
own  Courts,  even  over  judicial   combats ;   of  their  being 
summoned  to  and  sitting  in  the  Court  of  Peers,  and,  what 
is  considered  the  highest  of  all  honours,  of  their  assisting 
at  the  consecration  of  the  King"  {Co.  Lit.  325*5.     Butler's 
note  280). 

As  to  the  Aldobrandeschi  themselves  we  have  no  very 
definite  information  before  the  end  of  the  eleventh  century, 
though  the  genealogical  tables,  published  by  Repetti  and 


NOTES  231 

Berlinghieri  respectively,  trace  the  family  back  to  the 
eighth  and  ninth  centuries.  According  to  Rondoni  {ubi 
cit.)  the  first  record  of  their  being  invested  with  the  dignity 
of  Counts  Palatine  is  to  be  found  in  a  document  of  1163. 
Originally,  their  jurisdiction  would  seem  to  have  extended 
over  the  whole  of  the  Contado  of  Roselle,  in  which  case, 
both  the  Ardengheschi  and  the  Pannochieschi  must  have 
been  their  vassals ;  while  it  is  possible  also  that  the 
seigniors  of  Campiglia  d'Orcia  may  have  gained  their  title 
of  Visconti,  as  being  the  Viscounts  {vice-comites)  of  the 
Contea  Aldobrandesca  (compare  the  note  to  chapter  viii., 
p.  227  supra). 

The  statement  that  the  Aldobrandeschi  possessed  more 
fortified  places  than  there  are  days  in  the  year  is  to  be 
found  in  Gli  Assempri  di  Fra  Filippo  da  Siena,  op  cit. 
xxxiv,  p.  1x6:  "Si  diceva  che  solevano  avere  piu  castella 
che  non  sono  di  nell'  anno."  There  is  a  further  reference 
to  the  Aldobrandeschi  in  Assempro  xxxv. 

Page  140,  line  24. — "The  Maremma  is  supposed  to  have 
been  originally  both  fertile  and  healthy.  It  certainly  formed 
part  of  that  Etruria  which  was  called  from  its  harvests  the 
annofiaria.  Old  Roman  cisterns  may  still  be  traced,  and 
the  ruins  of  Populonium  are  still  visible  in  the  worst  part 
of  this  tract"  (Forsyth,  Italy,  p.  156).  According  to 
Aquarone  (p.  48)  it  only  began  to  become  insanitary 
in  the  tenth  century  when,  after  having  devastated  Genoa, 
the  Saracens,  as  Malavolti  (i.  22')  informs  us,  "presero 
e  spogliarono  similmente  tutte  le  terre  marittime  con  tanto 
rovina  e  tanta  occisione,  che  quel  paese  non  e  mai  piu 
stato  ne  populoso,  ne  domestico."  Nevertheless,  its 
deterioration  was  gradual.  Even  in  the  fourteenth  century, 
Fazio  degli  Uberti  still  speaks  of  the  Maremma  as 

tutta 
Diletevole  molto 

(Ditiamondo,  iii.  9) 


232  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

and,  albeit  he  admits  that  it  was  poca  sana,  the  greater  part 
of  it  seems  to  have  been  still  fairly  habitable. 

Pages  142-143. — For  these  conventions  between  Siena 
and  Orvieto  see  Fumi,  Codice  Dipl.,  op.  cit.  Doc.  Ixxiii., 
Ixxiv. 

As  to  the  division  of  the  Communal  Army  {hostis)  into 
milites  and  pedites,  see  //  constituto  del  Cotnune  di  Siena 
delP  anno  1262  (edition  Zdekauer),  p.  xxxxiv.  Compare 
also  W.  Heywood,  Faiio  and  Fonte,  p.  35  note. 

Page  143,  line  i^  et seq. — Not  only  did  the  Aldobrandeschi 
themselves  promise  obedience  to  the  Commune,  but  the 
inhabitants  of  the  Contea  also  were  sworn  to  observe  the 
covenants  and  agreements  already  entered  into  by  their 
seigniors ;  and  it  is  worthy  of  note  that,  by  the  terms  of 
the  oath  taken,  the  debt  of  reverence  and  honour  due  to 
the  Communes  of  Pisa  and  Siena  were  expressly  re- 
cognised— Salvo  honorem  doniini  l7?tperatoris  et  reverentiam 
domini  Pape  et  egregie  Civitatis  Pisane  et  Setiensis  in 
omnibus.  Two  of  the  Sienese  consuls  were  present  at  the 
ceremony — Fumi,  op.  cit.  Doc.  Ixxvi. 

Page  145,  li/ie  19. — The  document  which  records  the 
division  of  the  Contea  Aldobrandesca  recites  how,  discord 
having  arisen  between  the  most  noble  and  illustrious 
Counts  Palatine,  the  Lord  Aldobrandino,  and  his  brethren, 
Bonifazio,  Guglielmo  and  Aldobrandino,  "et  diabolico 
instinctu,  minime  non  fraterno  amore,  set  inimicabiliter 
hodibiles  inimicitias  pretractassent,  multorum  hominum 
corda  bella  et  captivitates  intervenissent,  unde  videbatur, 
honorabilis  eorum  domus  et  spetiosissimus  Comitatus  fore 
destructus,  placuit  ergo  quinque  nobilibus  memoratis  ad 
Urbemveterem,  tamquam  ad  propriam  matrem,  reddire 
Civitatem  "  (Fumi,  op.  cit.  Doc.  cvii.). 


NOTES  233 

Page  148,  lt?ie  3. — It  was  further  stipulated  that  the 
subjects  of  each  of  the  contracting  parties  should  be  at 
liberty  to  enter  and  dwell  freely  in  the  territories  of  the 
other;  and  that  neither  should  the  Commune  possess  itself 
of  any  towns  or  villages  in  the  dominions  of  the  Counts, 
nor  the  Counts  in  those  of  the  Commune  without  express 
permission  first  had  and  received.  The  Castaldi,  consuls 
and  governors  of  the  towns  and  fortresses,  as  well  as  many 
of  the  common  folk  of  the  Contea  Aldobrandesca  swore 
to  observe  the  terms  of  the  treaty ;  and  we  note  that  for 
the  ancient  Sovana,  where  to-day  are  nought  but  ruins  and 
a  church  "populated  by  great  memories,"  a  consul  and 
120  men  took  the  oath,  a  consul  and  168  men  for  Pitigliano, 
about  500  for  Grosseto,  and  the  Chancellor  of  the  Commune, 
and  250  for  Belforte. — R.  Arch,  di  Stato  in  Siena,  Caleffo 
Vecchio,  etc.  41-43;  Malavolti,  i.  49;  Tommasi,  i.  209; 
Berlinghieri,  op.  cit.  p.  31  ;  Rondoni,  Sena  Vefus,  p.  30. 

Page  148,  lines  23-26. — The  Count  Guglielmo  promised 
to  take  up  his  residence  in  Grosseto,  ipsuin  et  turrim 
muntendo  et  ex  inde  preliando  cum  dictis  Grosseianis,  sen 
aliomodo  taliter  faciendo,  quod  redibunt  et  stabunt  ad 
mandatuin  nostrum  et  Comu?iis  Senensis. 

With  regard  to  the  taking  of  Grosseto,  see  Malavolti, 
op.  cit.  i.  cte.  50-51;  Rondoni,  Seita  Veins,  30-31;  L. 
Banchi,  //  Memoriale  delle  Offese,  etc.,  in  the  Arch.  Stor. 
Ital.,  Serie  iii.  torn.  xxii.  (1875)  PP-  226-228;  Tommasi, 
i.  213. 

Page  149,  line  25.—  Among  the  other  reasons  which  the 
Count  Guglielmo  had  for  hating  the  Sienese  was  the  fact 
that  (if  we  may  believe  the  chronicles)  he  had  been 
imprisoned  by  them  for  six  months.  "In  questo  an7io 
(1227)  stette  il  Conte  Guglielmo  di  Santa  Fiore  sei  mesi 
in  prigione  in  Siena  —  Muratori,  Rer.  Ital.  Script., 
XV.  23. 


2  34  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

Page  152,  litie  9. — As  to  the  events  which  led  the 
Florentines  to  abandon  their  designs  on  Talamone  see 
R.  Langton  Douglas,  A  History  of  Siena  (London, 
Murray,  1902),  p.  71.  The  convention  of  the  Counts 
with  Florence  will  be  found  in  the  Arch.  Stor.  liai.,  Serie 
iii.  torn,  xxiii.  p.  220.  Compare  Fumi,  Cod.  Dipl.,  op  cit. 
Doc.  ccxcviii. 

Page  153,  lines  1-15. — The  proceedings  of  the  Consiglio 
del/a  Campa7ia  with  regard  to  the  Seigniors  of  Torniella 
were  published  by  Professor  L.  Zdekauer  as  an  appendix 
to  his  La  Vita  pubblica  dei  Senesi  nel  Duge?ito,  Siena, 
Lazzeri,  1897. 

Pages  154-155. — As  to  the  hostility  of  Count  Omberto 
to  the  Sienese,  and  the  events  which  led  to  his  death,  see 
Bandini  Piccolomini,  Del  Cojite  Umberto  di  Guglielmo 
Aldobrandeschi  in  Atte  e  memorie  della  P.  Academia  de^ 
Pozzi,  vol.  iii.  (1876-79),  Adunanza  del  di  10  Agosto, 
1878. 

Page  157,  lifies  1-2 1. — The  chronicle  here  quoted  is  that 
attributed  to  Niccolb  di  Giovanni  di  Francesco  Ventura. 
It  is  published  by  G.  Porri,  Miscellanea  Storica  Sanese 
(Siena,  1844),  p.  67.  It  gives  a  stirring  account  of  the 
Battle  of  Monteaperto  and  should  be  read  by  every  visitor 
to  Siena.  "As  a  battle-piece,  painted  in  glorious  words, 
it  stands  without  a  rival.  There  you  may  read  of  gallant 
deeds,  of  armed  knights  crashing  together,  of  hard  mail 
hewn,  of  shattered  helms.  There  you  shall  find  blood, 
blood  in  torrents,  blood  everywhere — the  blood  of  'those 
dogs  of  Florentines,'  whom  the  valorous  people  of  Siena, 
slew  like  swine  in  a  slaughter-house.  They  seemed,  cries 
the  chronicler,  porci  feriti.  And  to  all  this  you  will  pass 
from  a  scene  of  prayer  and  reconciliation  in  the  Holy 
Sienese   Church,    where   the   Bishop   and   his  clergy  sing 


NOTES  235 

•  the  old  Latin  hymns  of  peace  and  love,'  and  where  the 
injured  is  seeking  out  the  injurer  to  kiss  him  on  the 
mouth  and  to  pardon  him  ;  while  over  all,  battle-field  and 
Cathedral  alike,  broods  the  sacred  form  of  God's  most 
Holy  Mother,  Siena's  Protector  and  Advocate." 

Page  159,  line  12. — Of  the  war  with  Ghinozzo  da  Sasso- 
forte,  the  following  details  have  been  preserved  for  us.  I 
translate  from  the  Cronica  Sanese  in  Muratori,  Rer. 
Ital.  Script.^  xv.  87  n. 

"  The  Counts  of  S.  Fiora  made  war  on  the  Seigniors  of 
Sassoforte  of  whom  was  the  lord  Ghinozzo.  Wherefore 
the  said  Ghinozzo  with  his  folk  made  an  incursion  into  the 
lands  of  the  Counts  of  S.  Fiora  and  wasted  them  even 
unto  the  Patrimony;  for  he  was  a  man  of  puissance 
and  bold;  and  he  had  a  horse  of  great  worth  and  of 
marvellous  courage.  Nevertheless,  on  this  raid,  neither 
his  horse  nor  his  folk  availed  him  aught,  for  he  was  taken 
by  the  Captain  of  the  Patrimony  and  shut  up  in  the 
fortress  of  .  .  . 

"  Now  the  Captain  of  the  Patrimony  would  fain  ride  the 
horse  of  the  said  Ghinozzo  and  he  knew  not  how  to  guide 
him,  nor  how  to  make  him  go.  Ghinozzo,  being  shut  up 
and  guarded  in  the  said  fortress,  spake  unto  him  and 
said:  'Wouldst  thou  that  I  should  ride  him  and  show 
thee  the  manner  of  his  going  ?  '  Said  the  Captain  :  '  Take 
him  and  mount  him.'  And  Ghinozzo  did  so ;  and  he 
made  him  go  along  the  ravelin  of  the  fortress,  first  at  a  walk, 
then  at  a  trot,  and,  at  the  last,  at  a  gallop.  Then  did  the 
said  Ghinozzo  bethink  him  to  essay  a  great  venture,  and, 
as  he  rode  the  said  horse,  he  cried,  '  Let  him  who  wants  me 
come  to  Sassoforte,'  and  he  leapt  the  said  horse  down 
from  the  ravelin  of  the  fortress  on  to  the  barbacan  thereof 
and  thence  to  earth.  And  he  struck  spurs  to  his  horse  and 
got  him  away  to  Sassoforte.  Wherefore  the  Captain  and 
the  others  who  saw  that  deed  marvelled  much,  both  at  the 


2  36  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

prowess  of  the  horse  and  the  courage  of  Ghinozzo,  for  the 
height  of  that  leap  was  twenty  cubits. 

"Ghinozzo,  lord  of  Sassoforte,  being  at  war  with  the 
Counts  of  S.  Fiora,  raided  the  lands  of  the  Counts  even 
unto  Magliano  and  IMonteano ;  and  he  joined  battle  with 
the  folk  of  the  said  Counts,  and  Ghinozzo  and  his  folk 
were  discomfited.  Yet,  through  the  excellence  of  his  horse, 
he  escaped,  albeit  his  followers  were  taken.  The  Counts 
and  their  folk  pursued  hard  after  him  ;  wherefore  he  fled 
into  the  territory  of  Siena  and  entered  into  Accesa,  thinking 
to  be  safe  therein.  Now  the  fortress  of  Accesa  belonged 
to  the  Bishop  of  Massa.  Nevertheless,  the  Counts  ceased 
not  from  pursuing  him  ;  and  they  laid  siege  to  Accesa  and 
guarded  all  the  ways  which  led  thereto;  and  divers  days 
they  abode  there  and  besieged  it.  Therefore,  Ghinozzo, 
when  he  perceived  that  he  might  not  escape  and  that  there 
was  none  to  succour  him,  surrendered  to  the  said  Counts, 
and  they  led  him  away  prisoner  to  S.  Fiora.  .  .  .  There- 
after, Ghinozzo  died  in  prison  by  reason  of  his  little 
eating." 

Page  159,  I'me  13. — Cronich  Sa?iese  in  Muratori,  Rer. 
Ital.  Script.^  xv.  114. — This  was  the  same  Count  Jacomo, 
one  of  whose  raids  is  thus  described  by  an  anonymous 
chronicler,  in  the  year  1316  :  "Cavalcho  el  chonte  Jachomo 
de'  chonti  da  Sancta  Fiore  infino  al  bagnio  a  Maciareto  e  in 
Fileta  infino  a  la  Seghalaia,  arsero  e  tenero  grande  danno 
e  ucisero ;  ebero  pregioni  e  grande  di  brede  di  bieste,  e 
fuoro  ciento  cinquanta  chavalieri" — Frammento  da  u?ia 
cronachetta  Senese  d'Anonimo  del  Secolo,  xiv.  edito  da 
Mengozzi  e  LisiNi,  per  le  nozze  Sarrocchi-Partini  (Siena, 
Tip.  Lazzeri,  1893),  p.  21. 

Page  164. — Those  who  desire  to  form  some  idea  of  the 
condition  of  the  villagers  in  the  Contea  Aldobrandesca 
from  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth  century  may  profitably 


NOTES  237 

study  the  recently  published  work  of  Paolo  Piccolomini, 
Lo  Statuto  del  Castello  della  Tria?ia  (Per  le  nozze  Pic- 
colomini della  Triana-Menotti),  Siena,  Lazzeri,  1905.  This 
Statute  was  enacted  in  135 1,  "to  the  honour^and  reverence 
of  Almighty  God  and  of  the  glorious  Virgin  Mary,  His 
Mother,  and  of  Messer  St.  John  and  of  Messer  St.  Anthony, 
the  special  Advocates  of  the  Commune  and  of  the  men  of 
the  Castello  della  Triana  and  of  all  the  Court  of  Heaven  ; 
and  to  the  honour  and  exultation  of  the  magnificent  men 
and  illustrious  lords  Andrea  and  Giovanni,  Aldobrandino 
and  Francesco,  by  the  grace  of  God  true  and  natural 
lords  of  the  said  Castello."  It  was  compiled  by  three 
massari  "at  the  commandment  of  the  said  Messer  the 
Count  Andrea,"  and,  albeit  the  Aldobrandeschi  sold  this 
part  of  their  domains  to  the  Piccolomini  in  1388,  the 
Statuto  continued  to  be  observed  as  law  up  to  the  time  of 
the  Leopoldine  reforms. 

Yet  interesting  and  instructive  as  is  the  Statute  of  the 
Castello  della  Triana,  it  is  obvious  that  he  who  would 
attain  to  a  proper  understanding  of  the  condition  of  the 
rural  districts  in  the  Middle  Ages  must  extend  his  studies 
far  beyond  the  walls  of  any  single  village,  however  typical. 
It  is  much  to  be  desired  that  some  German  or  Italian  scholar 
— I  fear  none  other  would  have  the  necessary  patience — 
might  undertake  to  elucidate  the  history  of  the  Sienese 
contado  as  a  whole.  In  this  connection  the  following 
works,  among  others,  might  be  consulted  with  profit :  R. 
Caggese,  La  Rep.  di  Siena  e  il  siio  cofitado  nel  secolo 
decimoterzo  in  the  Bullettino  Senese  di  Storia  Patria,  vol. 
xiii.  pp.  3-120;  PoLiDORi,  Statuto  del  Comune  di  Mo?itagu- 
tola  delP  Ardinghesca  1 280-1 297,  in  the  Staiufi  Sefiesi  scritti 
in  volgare  ne"  Secoli  xiii.  e  xiv.  (Bologna,  Romagnoli,  1863), 
vol.  i.  pp.  I  et  seq. ;  Banchi,  Statuto  della  Pieve  a  Molli  del 
Contado  di  Siena,  volgan'zzato  circa  Fanno  1338,  Siena, 
1866,  per  nozze  Ricci-Busatti ;  Mieli,  Statuto  di  Chiaren- 
tana,  Firenze,  1892  ;  Zdekauer,  Sugli  Statuti  della  terra 


238  IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

di  Casole  (i 385-1 561)  in  Miscellanea  Storica  della  Val 
d'Elsa,  vol.  iv.  pp.  120  etseq.;  Zdekauer,  La  "-Carta 
Libertatis"  e  gli  statuti  della  Rocca  di  Tintinnano  (1207- 
1297)  in  Bullettino  cited,  iii.  pp.  327  et  seq.  ;  Zdekauer, 
Sugli  Statuti  del  Monte  Amiata  (1212-1451)  con  il  testo 
delle  franchigii  di  Montecello  ^f/  131 1  in  Studii  guiridici,  etc., 
op.  cit. ;  Rossi,  Docutnenti  e  Statuti  del  Castello  di  Montisi 
(1197-1552)  in  Bullettino  c\\.td,  vii.  pp.  353  etseq. ;  Ferrari, 
Monografia  storica-statuaria  del  Castello  di  Farnetella  in 
Valdichiana^  Rocca  S.  Casciano,  1901. 

Page  176,  litie  4. — According  to  Rondoni  {Tradizioni 
popolari  e  Leggende,  op.  cit.  p.  106)  there  was  formerly  an 
ancient  bas-relief  above  the  outer  gate  of  the  monastery, 
representing  a  warrior  fighting  a  dragon,  with  the 
inscription  :  "  //  Sig.  Conte  di  S.  Flora  a  caccia  per  il  bosco 
di  questo  convento,  nel  11 2  5  5'  incontro  in  un  orrendo  serpente, 
e,  raccomandatosi  alia  SS.  Trinita,  P  uccise."  For  many 
years  the  skull  of  the  monster  was  shown  to  the  people  on 
Trinity  Sunday  and  devoutly  kissed  by  them. 

Chapter  XII. — In  addition  to  the  Dizionario  of  Repetti 
consult  G.  CoNTRi,  Storia  di  Arcidosso,  Arcidosso,  Tip. 
Gori,  1890. 

Chapter  XIII. — As  to  David  Lazzaretti,  the  reader  should 
consult  G.  Barzellotti,  David  Lazzaretti  di  Arcidosso 
detto  il  Santo,  i  suoi  Seguaci  e  la  sua  Leggenda,  Bologna, 
Zanichelle,  1885 ;  R.  Calamandrei,  Monte  Amiata, 
Montepulciano,  Fumi,  1891,  and  Arcidosso  e  il  sua  Profeta 
nel  1878.  Grosseto  Tip,  di  Guiseppe  BarbaruUi  1878.  It 
is  an  anonymous  pamphlet  of  3 1  pages. 


USEFUL   INFORMATION 

The  best  centre  from  which  to  explore  M.  Amiata  is 
unquestionably  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore,  The  place  possesses 
an  inn  which,  while  modest,  should  satisfy  the  traveller  for  a 
day  or  two ;  but  it  will  not,  we  think,  be  likely  to  suit  the 
English  visitor  who  desires  to  make  a  lengthy  stay.  For 
such  an  one  there  are  two  alternatives ;  either  to  rent  a 
house  or  to  obtain  board  and  lodging  with  a  private  family. 
In  the  former  case  he  should  apply  to  Signora  Angela 
FocACCi,  Abbadia  San  Salvatore.  Her  villa,  outside  the 
Castello,  will  be  found  scrupulously  clean  and  extremely 
comfortable;  and  should  this  be  already  taken  for  the 
season  she  can  find  others.  In  the  latter  case,  he  should 
write  to  Dott.  Alfredo  Viti,  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore,  who 
occasionally  takes  paying  guests  during  the  summer  months. 
His  house  is  newly  built,  and  situated  outside  the  Castello. 
It  is  furnished  with  all  modern  conveniences  (electric  light, 
etc.) ;  the  table  is  liberal  and  the  wine  excellent. 

The  accommodation  in  Abbadia  is,  however,  strictly 
limited ;  and  the  intending  visitor  should  make  his  arrange- 
ments betimes.  Otherwise  he  may  find  himself  obliged 
to  take  up  his  quarters  at  the  inn,  or  even  to  put  up 
with  lodgings  within  the  walls  of  the  squalid  Castello. 

With  regard  to  the  other  villages,  it  may  be  mentioned 
that  S.  Quirico,  Arcidosso,  S.  Flora,  and  Pian  Castagnajo 
all  possess  passable  inns. 

The  nearest  station  to  Abbadia  S.  Salvatore  is  Monte 
Amiata,  on  the  line  from  Asciano  to  Grosseto ;  but  it  can 
also  be  reached  from  Chiusi;  though  that  will  entail  a 

239 


240  IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 

drive   of  from   five   to   six   hours   through    Sarteano    and 
Radicofani. 

For  the  motorist  and  bicychst  coming  from  Siena,  the 
road  to  be  recommended  is  that  which  passes  through 
Buonconvento  to  Montalcino,  and  thence,  by  way  of  S. 
Antimo,  to  Monte  Amiata  Station.  From  Monte  Amiata 
the  circuit  of  the  Mountain  may  be  made  through 
Arcidosso  and  S.  Fiora,  Pian  Castagnajo  and  Abbadia 
S.  Salvatore,  to  Vignone  and  S.  Quirico.  There  are  a 
few  hills  to  be  walked  by  a  bicyclist,  but  the  trip  is  by 
no  means  a  fatiguing  one  if  it  be  spread  over  three  or 
four  days.  It  may  be  further  extended  by  going  from  S. 
Quirico  to  Pienza  and  Montepulciano,  on  the  line  between 
Siena  and  Chiusi. 


INDEX 


Abbadia  S.  Salvatore,  4,  8,  15, 
21-60 
Badia,  the,  41-50 
Benedictines  in,  21 
Expulsion  of,  30 
Cistercians  in,  30 
Crucifix  at,  46 
Description  of,  45-50 
Foundation  of,  26-27 
Frescoes  in,  46-47 
History  of,  41-50 
Imperial  grants  to,  28 
Lower  church  of,  47-50 
Miracle  picture  in,  47 
Monks  feudal  lords  of,  25- 

26 
Oldest  monastery   in  Tus- 
cany, 26 
Relics  of,  48 
Spoliation  of,  43 
Castello  di,  21,  25,  23,  51-60 
Companies  in,  55 
Condition  of  people  in  to- 
day, 39 
History  and  description  of, 

51-60 
Origin  of,  30 
S.  Croce,  54 
View  of,  best,  52 
Ermeta,  the,  57 
History  of,  21-40 
Madonna  a  Capo  di  Ponte  di 

S.  Andrea,  58 
Madonna  del  Castagno,  57 
Madonna  della  Remedie,  57 
Madonna  delle  Grazie,  52,  58 
16 


Oratory  of  S.  Roch,  57 
Relations     with     Siena    and 

Orvieto,  35,  37,  38 
S.  Maria  Maddalena,  58 
SS.  Jacomo  e  Cristoforo,  58 
Abbadinghi,  piety  of,  44 
Abbot  Rolland,  33 
Aldobrandeschi,  16,  20,  29,  128, 

130,  139-64,  215 
Advent  into  Italy  of,  139 
Aldobrandino  dei,  13,  14,  120 
Aldobrandino     di     Bonifazio, 

158 
Aldobrandino  il  Rosso,  158 
Aldobrandino     of    S.    Fiora, 

154 
At  Monteaperto,  156-57 
Aldobrandino  the  younger, 

141-53 

Anastasia,  158 

Bonifazio,  20,  141 

Cecilia,  167 

Dominion  of,  140 

Guglielmo,  20,  141,  154 

Guido,  164 

Ildeprando,  141 

Jacomo,  159 

Margherita,  158 

Umberto,  20,  154-56 
Arbia,  the,  3 
Arcidosso,  20 

Churches  of,  180-81 

History  of,  179-81 

Road  to,  1 78-80 
Asciano,  8,  10 
Assisi,  22 


242 


IN   UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 


Bagni  di  S.  Filippo,  8,  15,  1 13-17 
Baths   in   Middle  Ages,  114- 

15 
Baldassare  and  his  crosses,  73- 

76,  79-80 
Boccaccio  on  Ghino  di  Tacco, 

105-12 
Bolsena,  Lago  di,  23 
Bonfigli  Benedetto,  4 
BotticelU,  9 

Bourbon,  Gen.  Gio-Battista,  133 
Brandano,  186 
Buonconvento,  3,  8,  12 
Inn  of,  4 
SS.  Pietro  e  Paolo,  12 

Callimala,  Borgo  di,  1 1,  36,  93 
Campigliaccia,  120 
Campiglia  d'Orcia,  1 17-124 
Casentino,  the,  22 
Castel  del  Piano,  215-216 
Castellazzara,  67 
Castiglione  d'Orcia,  15 
Celle,  22 

Cervini,  Conti  di  Vivo,  123 
Cesarini  Sforza,  165,  168 
Cetona,  18,  22 
Charlemagne,  26,  89 
Cicale,  i,  64-66 
Colle  di  Accona,  13 

Da  Imola  quoted,  112 

Dante   cited   or   quoted,  3,  20, 

loi,  155,  158,  159,  166 
Delia    Robbia,  the,    10,  96-97, 
169-71 
Andrea,  170 
Giovanni,  171 

Ermeta,  the,  28 

Eternal  City,  Lazzaretti's,  178 

Feudalism  in  Italy,  16-17 
Fiora,  the,  172 
Florence,  contado  of,  9 
Franks,    their   way    into    Italy. 
See  Via  Francigena 


Frederic  11.,  Emperor,  29,  129 

Gherardini  cited,  44 

Ghino  di  Tacco,  loi-ii 

Gigli,  quoted,  103 

Giovagnolo,  20,  166 
Death  of,  160-63 

Grand  Duke  Ferdinando  I.,  133 
Ferdinando  li.,  8,  117 
Pietro  Leopoldo,  30,  42-43 

Gubbio,  mountains  of,  22 

Henry  il..  Emperor,  29 
Henry  vi..  Emperor,  29 
Henry  vil.,  Emperor,  3 
Heywood,  Mr.,  quoted,  98,  114- 
15,  160-63 

II  Santo.     See  Lazzaretti 
Indovina,  the,  133 

Jacopone  da  Todi,  i 

Lazzaretti,  David,  called  the  New 
Messiah,  4,  76-79,  178- 
81,  182-214 

Barzellotti,  Signor,  on,  193 

Companies  of,  208 

Death  of,  213-14 

Grotto  of,  194 

Interview  of,  with  Pio  IX.,  189 

Last  procession  of,  205-11 

Preaching  of,  197 

Predecessors  of,  185-86 

Proclaims  that  he  istChrist, 
205 

Santa  Lega  of,  195 

Sincerity  of,  185 

Socialism  of,  201 

Terni,  Dr.,  on,  193 

Visions  of,  190-93 

Young  Italy  and,  201 

Youth  of,  187-89 

Malameranda,  12 
Maremma,  6,  18    ^ 
Matteo  di  Giovanni,  12 


INDEX 


243 


Messiah  of  Mont' Amiata.      ^ee 

Lazzaretti 
Monaldeschi,  131 
Montalcino,  4 
Mont'  Amiata — 

After  rain,  71 

Cima  of,  87-91 
View  from,  90-gi 

Coming  of  rain  on,  70 

Corn  of,  125 

Dawn  on,  69 

Feast  of  Assumption  on,  80-87 

Feudalism  in,  16 

Forest  of,  21,  61-91 

History  of,  15-20 

Regret  at  leaving,  216-18 

Station  of,  8,  10 

View  of,  from  Siena,  2-7 

Way  to,  8-15 
Monte  Calvo,  172 
Monte  Cimino,  22 
Montefiascone,  23 
Monte  Labbro,  5,  178,  179,  181. 

See  Lazzaretti 
Monte  Laterone,  29 
Monte  La  Verna,  22 
Monte  Oliveto  Maggiore,  12 
Montepulciano,  15 
Monte  Subasio,  22 
Monte  Venere,  22 

New  Messiah.     See  Lazzaretti 
Norcia,  mountains  of,  22 
Nova  Sion,  179 

Olivetan  Congregation,  13 

Oreste  di  Cappelle,  186 

Orsini,  132 

Orvieto,  37 

Otho  III.,  Emperor,  29 

Pandolfo  da  Fasianella,  129 
Patrimony  of  S.  Peter,  22 
Philip  Augustus,  Emperor,  1 1 
Pian  Castagnajo,  29,  127-3S 

Bourbon  Palace  at,  135 

History  of,  128-33 


II  Mugnello,  135-38 

Madonna  di  S.  Pietro,  127-28 

Mediaeval  road  to,  127 

Orvieto  and,  130 

S.  Bartolommeo,  128,  134 

View  from,  137-38 
Pienza,  15 

Piero  della  Francesca,  2 
Podere  Zaccaria,  15 
Pope  Alexander  vi.,  167,  168 

Clement  v.,  3 

Eugenius  ill.,  37 

Marcus,  48 

Pio  II.,  6,  41-42,  44 
Popolonia,  18 

Rachis,  Duke  of  Friuli,  26 
Radicofani,  4,  8,  11,  12,  15,  29, 

35 
Churches  of,  95-101 
Cruel  usurer  of,  98 
History  of,  94-97 
Rocca  of,  101-112 
Way  from  Abbadia  S.  Salva- 
tore  to,  92-94 
Robert,  King  of  Naples,  3 
Rondoni,  Prof.,  quoted,  16-17, 

33,  52 
Roselle,  18 

S.  Antimo,  4 

S.  Casciano,  22 

S.  Flora,  19,  20,  165-77 

Entrance  to,  165 

History   and    description   of, 
165-77 

Pescheria,  167 

S.  Agostino,  166 

S.  Chiara,  166,  171 

SS.  Flora  e  Lucilla,  166,  168, 
169-71 

S.  Trinity  della  Selva,  172-77 
S.  Quirico  d'Orcia,  8,  13-14 

Collegiata,  14 

Inn  at,  13 

Misericordia,  14 

Palazzo  Chigi,  14 


244 


IN  UNKNOWN  TUSCANY 


Salimbeni,  12,  131-32 
Sano  di  Pietro,  12 
Seggiano,  216 
Sforza  Bosio,  167,  174 

Francesco  di  Bosio,  167 

Guido,  176 
Sforza-Cesarini,  174 
Siena — 

Bells  of,  5 

Contado  of,  2,  8-10,  17-18 

Duomo,  I,  5 

Empire  and,  16 

Mangia  Tower,  i 

Palazzo  Pubblico,  i 

Porta  Romana,  12 

Servi  di  Maria,  i 

Sunset  in,  1-7 

Valleys  about,  i 
Signorelli,  Luca,  13 
Simplicio  of  Sulmona,  186 
Sodoma,  13,  14 
Spello,  22 
Spoleto,  22 


Tolomei  Bernardo,  12 
Tommasi  quoted,  57 
Torrenieri,  8 
Travelling  in  Italy,  10 

Ughelli  quoted,  48 
Umbria,  loveliness  of,  9 

Val  di  Merse,  18 
Val  di  Ombrone,  18 
Vald'Orcia,  4,  8,  15 
Val  di  Paglia,  1 1 
Via  Francigena,  3,  10-12 
Vignone,  15 

Visconti  of  Campiglia  d'Orcia, 
16,  19,  29,    56,  113,   120, 
129 
Viterbo,  12,  23 
Vivo,  122-24 

Waters  of,  124 

Way  to  Abbadia  from,  1 24 

Zdekauer,  Prof.,  quoted,  33 


Printed  by  Morrison  ani>  Gibb  Limited,  Kdinburgh 


13  Q:) 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW. 


Series  9482 


)f. 


/•-  ' 


UC  SOUTHI 


UNBH-.IONALLI13HARYfAClLlTY 


AA    000  916  680    2 


